


Je Suis Enchanté

by iola17



Series: What Are You Wearing? [2]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: 5x14, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Clothing Kink, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Episode Tag, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-episode: Life Is A Cabaret, Roleplay, Romance, Sexual Fantasy, Smut, life is a cabaret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-25 18:07:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20375881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iola17/pseuds/iola17
Summary: It's show time, Stevie is nowhere to be found and Patrick's outfit is threatening to give David a heart attack at the tender age of none-of-your-business.David explores his feelings about Patrick as the Emcee.





	1. Opening Night

**Author's Note:**

> Installment number two in the series.
> 
> Again, the word count got away from me a little. Blame it on the fabulousness of this episode and the awesome relationship between these two.
> 
> Second attempt at smut and I'm warming up to the idea that this series is just a chance for these boys to be a little horny over each other.
> 
> Currently planning to add closing night's events in a subsequent chapter.

Despite the worry about Stevie’s whereabouts, David’s steps falter when he enters the dressing room and sees Patrick (his _fiancé_), leg up on a chair, pulling a sock over his calf.

Holy _fuck._

Patrick is gorgeous.

This is always true, of course, and should not come as a surprise. He’s gorgeous in his blue button downs and fuss-free jeans, flannel pajama pants and baseball uniform. He’s even gorgeous wearing ridiculous rubber thimbles on his fingers.

In the words of Stevie, (granted she was talking about Ted, but David is firmly of the opinion that Patrick is the hottest man ever to have been within a thousand miles of Schitt’s Creek): Patrick. Could. Get it.

And David is beyond delighted that, for the rest of their lives, he gets to be the one to give it to him.

The joy bubbles in his chest at the memory of Patrick on one knee and he runs his thumb over his four new gold rings without taking his eyes off his beautiful man. After the years of bad experiences, David Rose can finally say he’s in a healthy, committed partnership with a man who thinks he’s worth spending forever with.

As Patrick finishes straightening his sock, the muscles of his upper arms flex and David bites his lips, eyeing up his future husband’s bare biceps, remembering those strong arms wrapping around him, holding him close, warm and secure. 

Patrick’s wearing a thin white tank top that shows off his pectoral muscles and David wants to bunch the material up to run his tongue across the planes of Patrick’s stomach. Suspenders crossing Patrick’s chest press his shirt against his skin with every inhale and David is struck by the desire to seize the bow at the centre of Patrick’s chest and drag his body as close as possible.

Shorts finishing above the knee showcase his strong thighs, given definition by years of playing sports and hiking and, tragically, usually hidden beneath a layer of denim. The whole picture is mouth-watering.

Then Patrick looks up, sensing David standing there.

Oh.

David is fucked. He actually isn’t going to survive the night.

Patrick’s hair has some kind of product on it and looks darker than usual, edging more towards black than his usual chestnut but it is the eyeliner circling those rich brown eyes that snatch the air from David’s lungs.

Although not one to put much stock into gender stereotypes, the unexpected dash of the traditionally feminine into Patrick’s usually straightforwardly masculine look is causing David’s lungs to constrict, shortening his breath and making him lightheaded.

It’s such a simple thing but the sweeping shadows are incredibly seductive, drawing focus to Patrick’s stunning eyes, always so full of warmth and sincerity when looking at David.

And suddenly, all David can think about are those eyes looking up at him in bed, pupils blown and wild as David thrusts into him.

He wants to smudge those shadows. Wants to smear that delicate makeup down Patrick’s cheeks as David makes Patrick lose control beneath him.

“Hey,” Patrick says. “How long have you been standing there?”

Shaking himself and reminding himself of the current emergency, David crosses the rest of the space between them and presses a kiss to Patrick’s expectantly turned up mouth.

“I just got here. The motel is drama central; no one can get hold of Stevie and Roland won’t stop talking about the statistics on missing persons cases. Mom might actually suffocate him with a wig if he doesn’t shut up and then we’ll all be caught up in a felony murder trial. So I thought I’d escape, establish an alibi and see if Stevie made her way here. _Is _she here?”

He peers around the room as if he’s somehow missed her. Apart from a few Kit Kat Club dancers across the room, it’s fairly quiet in here, with most people gathered in the green room where someone has left boxes of doughnuts on the table.

“I’m sorry, can we back up a minute?” Patrick says. “What’s going on with Stevie? And why is your mom killing Roland?”

He turns to the dressing table and grabs the sock garters lying there while David takes a deep breath, preparing to explain.

“Okay, so Stevie has totally freaked out. She’s disappeared and isn’t answering her phone and the last time anyone saw her she seemed kind of upset so at the minute no one is even sure if she’ll show up tonight. Which means the show is ruined and my mother is losing her mind.”

Patrick is silent for a moment, taking this in. His face seems to pale for a moment before his brow creases in confusion. “Of course Stevie will show,” he says after a few seconds. “She’s put in too much work. Why wouldn’t she show?”

“Alexis thinks she has cold feet. Mom thinks it was my fault. Oh my God, speaking of Alexis and mom, they did not react at all the correct way when they found out we’re getting married so that’s their lip balm supply cut off.”

“Your mom knows? And Alexis? I thought you wanted to wait to tell them.” He grimaces. “I was hoping not to upstage your mother tonight.”

He props his left foot on a chair so he can put on one of the garters.

“I know. But honestly, I don’t think it even sunk in with all the drama so if anyone’s ruined her night, it’s Stevie. Or Roland. Probably Roland. Anyway I had to tell mom because she wanted to know if there was anything that might have upset Stevie and then Alexis overheard and Roland was there for some reason so...”

Patrick nods as he clips the garter on. He knows full well how gossip in this town works. “So you told Stevie? Did you decide against a big announcement? That doesn’t seem like you.”

David bites his lip. “Okay, so after you left this morning, I was just so excited and happy and I needed someone else to be excited for us; just one more person. Stevie’s my best friend, I thought she’d be happy for us. I didn’t know she’d run away! So I told Stevie, and next thing you know she is nowhere to be found. I just wish this whole engagement announcement hadn’t gotten so out of control.”

Even as he says it, he can’t resist the lure of those rings, twisting one around on his finger, loving the solid, tangible proof that Patrick wants this, wants _David, _forever.

“I mean, people are coming up to me that I haven’t even spoken to yet.”

He’s already been cornered by Bob as he passed the garage and that weird Ivan with the breakfast food and the serial-killer vibe in the street outside. He’s placing the blame for the news leak squarely on Roland’s shoulders. His mother has been too distracted with her missing star to be spreading the news. Although it could be Alexis. He’s become an expert at tuning her out but maybe everyone else in this town is not so talented at blocking the sound of her voice.

Either way, it’s unbelievable how fast this is spreading.

As if to prove his point, Jocelyn comes rushing over.

“Gentlemen. Major show drama aside, I just wanted to say congratulations to the future Mr and Mr.”

She’s beaming at them and David taps Patrick’s shoulder with the back of his hand. _See what I mean? _

Glancing sideways, he can see the small, satisfied smile spread across Patrick’s face at the reference to them being husbands and even with all the stress and worry, the sight makes his heart clench. This man should be happy always.

“Or is it Misters?”

“See?” He gestures to Jocelyn. “Now Jocelyn, how did you find out?”

“Oh, from Moira.” Okay, so maybe his mother is the source of the gossip. “Maybe Alexis. Possibly Gwen.”

Gwen? Why does this mysterious woman keep cropping up? David is still not entirely sure he could pick her out of a line up so it feels weird that she is so up to date with his major life events.

“Thanks, Jocelyn, but I’m actually a little more concerned about the show at the moment,” Patrick says and looks pointedly at David.

Normally so self-assured, Patrick is full of anxious anticipation and David can see the nervous energy in his face. He wants to pull him into his arms, to soothe away that tension.

“Don’t worry, Moira says she has a plan.” Jocelyn nods to herself, looking slightly frantic as she bustles away.

Well, that is a sentence that has rarely turned out well.

Apparently of the same mind, Patrick whispers under his breath, “Oh does she?”

Then David’s mother comes in. This is worse than he thought.

David is speechless as he stares at the costume that no son should ever have to see his mother wearing.

“David! No, no, no, David I’m sorry, just performers backstage from here on.”

“Mrs. Rose, are… are you a performer at this point?” Looking at Patrick’s face, David can see the slight apprehension has evolved into full blown panic.

“Unfortunately I have no choice. So, I’m gonna shimmy off the rust and pray there’s still dazzle within.”

Oh my God.

Briefly David contemplates calling the fire department to report a hazardous overcrowding issue. Or the health department; maybe he could convince Patrick to pretend to be suffering from some kind of contagious plague with him. Perhaps get Alexis on board, make it look like it’s spreading? Anything to get this shut down.

“Sorry, sorry.”

It’s Stevie. David doesn’t think he’s ever been so happy to see her in his life. Next to him he can hear Patrick exhale and knows he’s not the only one delighted at the arrival of the brunette motel-owner.

“Stevie, what the fuck?” Moira says, whirling to face the new entrant.

“Mrs Rose?” Stevie looks as shocked as David feels at the sight of his mother wearing whatever the fuck that is.

“Stevie, thank God you’re here!” Jocelyn interjects, dashing back from where she was helping dancer number two pin her hair up. “Okay, everybody, vocal warm up in the green room!”

“Bye.” Patrick’s warm hand is on the back of David’s neck, turning his head, pulling him in for a brief kiss before he brushes past.

“Bye. Good luck!” David calls after his new fiancé, enjoying the opportunity to appreciate that strong, broad back as he walks away.

Stevie is apologising to his mother as the rest of the cast follow Jocelyn to the green room and his mother soon leaves to check up on a moisturiser or humidifier or something. David isn’t really listening.

“Okay, I’m sorry! I never should have told you before the show.” David rushes to apologise to his friend, groping for the words to make this better.

But Stevie is smiling gently and handing him a bag.

“What is this?”

“Patrick asked for my blessing a few weeks ago, so I had them made.”

The warmth that spreads through David’s chest at the thought of these two exceptional people, two of the dearest to him, sitting down to discuss how to make David happy for the rest of his life, has him pressing his lips together to stop a sob bursting out.

“It would have been nice if he told me when it was happening, I literally could have picked these up any other day this week but I will yell at him later.”

The bag holds a beautifully monogrammed set of towels bearing David’s initials tied with a delicate ribbon. Elegant, sophisticated and wonderfully soft, they are exactly what he would have chosen for himself and he is struck by how well she knows him.

He looks up at her then, this woman who was the first to make his life in this town bearable. Way back, before he settled in properly, before he leased the store and before Patrick, without fanfare, entered his world and set about bringing new light into every corner of his soul, Stevie was there.

In that moment he loves her so much he wants to cry. His best friend.

She shrugs, like this is not one of the most thoughtful gestures she could have done for him.

“I assume you two will be moving in together and I won’t be there to give you towels when you need them, so.”

God, somehow that thought hadn’t occurred to him in the whirlwind of the last twenty-four hours. Between the picnic and the engagement photographs and making their way back to the apartment where Patrick proceeded to strip them both bare and fuck David slow and deep, they hadn’t found time to discuss the living arrangements yet.

David’s heartrate picks up at the idea of Patrick’s place being _their _place. The lack of wardrobe space aside, the thought is a heady one.

His thumbs stroke over the exquisite pile of his new towels.

“Thank you. I appreciate the monogramming and choice of thread colour.” He breathes out, the weight that has rested on his chest since learning that she had disappeared finally easing. “I thought you were upset.”

“I was more upset that I had to drive to Elmdale today.”

David laughs a little and gestures at her ensemble. “I also appreciate this burlesque-y get up.”

“Excuse me, you’re an almost married man now.”

They grin at each other, delighted to be back to their light-hearted banter but the moment is interrupted by Jocelyn, Stevie is pulled away and David is unceremoniously kicked out to take his seat in the auditorium.

In the foyer there is a table laden with programmes and he picks one up, pausing to flick through it before he goes in.

His mother features on the back, a headshot taken at least twenty years ago covering half the page. The extensive list of her credentials fills the space underneath and David shakes his head, smiling. He’d expect nothing less from his luminous, eccentric parent.

Sally Bowles gets top billing inside and Stevie’s tiny smile does not quite conceal her trepidation or discomfort at having her photograph taken. She looks awkward and endearing and he is so grateful he gets to be her friend.

The rest of the cast appears alphabetically underneath the star which means that right below Stevie…

Patrick Brewer. He is confident and relaxed and almost superhumanly attractive, standing outside the front of their store, smiling with easy self-assurance. David stares at the face of his future husband and the happiness expanding in his chest borders on painful, it’s so overwhelming.

He gets to share all of these exciting moments with Patrick through all the years of their lives.

How did he get so lucky?

An usher calls to get his attention and lets him know it’s curtain up soon so he closes the programme and hurries inside, brushing past other latecomers hurrying down the aisle.

There’s an excited chattering in the air as he takes his seat beside Ted, squeezing past his father and Roland on the way. Ted is smiling at him, his face open and sincere and David can’t help but offer a small grin in return. The vet is one of the most genuine people David knows and he is pleased that Alexis has someone so steady in her life. Someone who is not going to attempt to trade her for a war horse or imprison her in a French chateau.

He does not miss those days.

But for all that Ted is friendly and handsome (David can’t deny he was stunning at Patrick’s housewarming) David has never seriously looked at him. Patrick is enough, Patrick has always been enough and no one else can measure up.

When Patrick reacted with envy at witnessing Ted and David’s kiss, not denying that he was a little jealous of David as well as Ted, David reacted as stupidly as he ever has in his life before.

His stomach turns over at the memory of his own past self, encouraging his beloved boyfriend to explore options other than himself (what kind of name is _Ken_?) He could have lost Patrick to another man, could have sent Patrick, feeling undervalued and unappreciated, directly into the arms of someone more able to show Patrick how much he was worth to them. David could have been left, alone and heartbroken, with no one to blame but himself.

But as it turns out, David is enough for Patrick too.

Before he’s even properly sitting down, Ted takes the chance to congratulate him on the engagement. Of course then Roland’s chiming in and his dad is trying to have a tender bonding moment in the middle of the packed stalls. It’s uncomfortable and embarrassing as Johnny whispers his congratulations across Ted who is forced to lean far back in his seat so as not to disturb the father-son moment. David is relieved when the lights start going down and Johnny has to stop.

Idly, David wonders if there’s anyone left who is unaware of the proposal, or if everyone important has already been told by Roland or Gwen (whoever the fuck she may be.)

“Meine Damen und Herren!”

David’s attention is wrenched up to the stage as Patrick strolls out of the centre door, bold and beautiful, arms spread wide.

“Mesdames et messieurs, ladies und gentlemen. I am your host.”

Patrick has a suit jacket on now and David mourns the loss of those biceps while appreciating the sight of his fiancé entirely in black and white. Such a departure from his blue-toned wardrobe, Patrick now stands in monochrome shades.

David’s shades.

Although he had no part in this particular costume choice, he feels a wave of possessiveness at seeing Patrick covered in his own most prominent wardrobe colours in front of all these people.

Clad in black and white it almost feels like a statement of belonging on Patrick’s part, even if he had no choice in the costuming either.

Patrick is singing, his strong voice carrying beautifully throughout the room entrancing the entire audience. He is at ease, taking centre-stage as he starts the show, surrounded by half dressed women and looking better than all of them combined in David’s eyes. (Of course, one of those women is Alexis so that goes without saying. They are nothing like the Bloomfields, thank you very much.)

Spreading his arms and radiating self-assurance in each step he takes, Patrick is animated and radiant.

Patrick has practised the words of this number in front of David, of course, murmuring under his breath during quiet periods at the store but he has never seen it altogether. The costume, the singing and the dancing all come together in a heart-stopping display and the breath is knocked out of him.

Patrick struts across the stage, owning the space, rubbing his hands down his body and thighs and – _fuck, fuck, fuck _– thrusting, pulling attention to his groin, the bulge of his cock cradled between the straps of his costume.

David becomes aware of his quickening breath, his own cock stirring in interest.

Oh God. No. He can’t get hard here.

He cannot get hard while sitting beside Ted, with his father and Roland an arm’s length away. Desperately he wills his arousal down but his dick has other ideas.

He wants Patrick, the visceral desire pumping through his blood. He needs to stake his claim on that stunning man on stage, wants to drive his fiancé half out of his mind for David. He wants to make Patrick wild for the pleasure David’s cock can bring him before David gives them both what they want.

And then he wants to spend the whole night (an eternity if he’s honest) worshipping every inch of Patrick’s incredible body.

David crosses his legs, hoping the movement is not too obvious to Ted. His programme goes down onto his lap, hiding the evidence of what Patrick’s confident display is doing to him.

He has to breathe deeply to will his growing erection away, determined not to embarrass himself in public. He just needs to control himself until after the show, after the after-party when he can be alone with Patrick.

The culmination of the number ends with Patrick standing, surrounded by women, a stocking-clad leg draped over his shoulder and possessive satisfaction wells up in David.

Patrick doesn’t want any of them the way he wants David. He isn’t interested in any of the women and doesn’t want any of the other men seated in the audience.

Only David. He knelt down before David and declared his desire to spend forever with David. He is the only one who gets to give Patrick what he wants and needs.

David leans back in his chair and looks down at the rings on his fingers as the scene changes on stage. They’re perfect and David cannot envision a future where the sight of those four golden circles, proof that Patrick has chosen him, does not fill his chest with joy.

The show is amazing. He has to credit his mother, she has pulled this together so well and the actors (well, lets face it, mainly Patrick and Stevie) have risen above their nerves and are performing fabulously.

When Stevie takes centre stage and starts to sing, she blossoms and the entire auditorium holds their breath. Her voice, shaky to start with, gains strength and David’s cheeks hurt from beaming.

As mesmerised as he is with Stevie’s performance, from the corner of his eye he is always aware of Patrick’s presence, resting in a chair at the side, leg crossed over his knee, half concealed in the shadow.

When Stevie reaches the end, she lets out a little sob-laugh and the relief on her face is clear. David stands with everyone else, clapping and telling anyone who will listen that she is his friend.

The rest of the show passes in a blur, David unable to take his eyes off Patrick whenever he is on stage, arousal still humming under his skin as his fiancé shows acting to be another of his many talents.

When the crowd stands and cheers, David’s applause is among the loudest and he is smiling so widely when Patrick moves upstage that the man he used to be would be worrying about wrinkles. Patrick’s eyes seek him out as he takes his bow, glittering in the lights and his face is flushed with exhilaration even beneath the makeup. The eyeliner stands out starkly against his skin and he grins at David, a private moment between the two of them in the packed theatre.

After the curtain falls and the audience begins filing out, David pushes past his father and Roland to be one of the first backstage, eager to see Stevie and Patrick, to tell them how good they were.

Backstage, his mother is flitting around, soaking up the praise from cast members and audience alike, revelling in a job well done, earlier panic forgotten. She descends on David the moment she sees him, eager for admiration and demanding to know what he thought of the lighting decisions. He only manages to get away from her when Johnny draws closer and engages her attention, always willing to give Moira the confidence boost she does not necessarily need but wants anyway.

David can’t spot Stevie in the crowd, and he decides a quieter congratulations is more appropriate for the two of them anyway. She isn’t really one for attention. Edging through a group of dancers, his eyes lock on his main goal, standing across the room, face flushed with happiness.

Patrick has just broken away from Jocelyn’s effusive praise and looks around the room before he spots David making his way towards him and his pleased smile grows wider.

“Hi,” David says as he reaches Patrick, leaning in to give him a kiss. Just for a second. He’s concerned that if he stretches it out any longer he might end up trying to tear Patrick’s clothes off even with all these people around.

As it is the gentle peck is enough to raise his heartrate.

“Hi,” Patrick says as he pulls back. “So?”

His eyes search David’s face, equal parts eager and anxious and David wraps his arms around Patrick’s shoulders. Patrick’s hands settle themselves into their favourite spot on David’s waist, spreading warmth even through his sweater.

“You were amazing. Patrick, I’m so proud of you.” He pulls him into a hug, burying his face into the side of Patrick’s neck and inhaling the warm, masculine aroma of him. Even the musky smell of sweat does not keep him from dragging Patrick’s scent into his lungs greedily.

He feels some of the tension leaving Patrick’s frame, as though he was really concerned about David’s reaction. “Even with the legs like tree trunks?”

David laughs a little and draws back.

“I happen to love your tree trunk legs.” He smiles and studies Patrick’s face intently. “You were amazing.”

Patrick pulls him closer by the waist and kisses him again before moving to untangle himself from David’s arms. David releases a wordless whine in protest and Patrick laughs.

“If you want to go to the motel for our big announcement I need to get changed first.”

David pouts, pulling his arms down to run his hands across Patrick’s chest. He tucks his fingers underneath the suspender straps, wrapping his fists around them and sighs.

“Ah,” Patrick says and when David looks at him in question Patrick is grinning, knowingly. “You like this.”

A throwback to David’s words when he noticed Patrick’s heated response to David in a baseball uniform. David’s breath hitches at the memory of Patrick after that game, on his knees, that talented mouth full of David’s cock while both still in uniform.

David rolls his eyes at his boyfriend’s – _fiancé’s, _he corrects himself – words but nods, conceding the point.

“Do you blame me? I mean…” One hand releases the suspenders to gesture down Patrick’s body. “I think sex appeal is the whole idea behind this.”

A quick glance around lets him know that there is no one close by where they stand in a quiet corner of the dressing room.

He lowers his voice to a near whisper, tightening his fist on the suspender strap and giving a sharp tug towards him while the other hand goes to Patrick’s waist under the suit jacket, rubbing small circles with his thumb on the fabric of his tank top.

“Seriously, do you have any idea how fucking sexy you look? Holy shit, Patrick.”

Patrick’s raises one eyebrow and his lips twist into a slow smile, toeing the line between coy and just plain dirty. “Yeah?”

David nods, pulling both lips between his teeth as he lets his gaze rake down Patrick’s body, letting the other man see the heat in his stare. From Patrick’s sharp inhale, David thinks he got the message pretty well.

“I really hope that performance didn’t wear you out too much because I have plans for you tonight.”

“Oh, I am absolutely on board with that.” Patrick smirks and leans in.

“My darling doves, félicitations!” Moira’s exuberant voice rises, clear above the chatter and a hush falls. Kiss aborted, Patrick drops his forehead to David’s shoulder.

Moira is standing in the centre of the room, flanked by Johnny and Jocelyn. No longer any traces of her Sally costume, thank fuck.

“I opened the cage and up you all flew! We mustn’t be complacent, however. I expect each night to mirror this transcendent triumph. So yes, seize this opportunity to revel in your success but return here promptly tomorrow night ready to repeat this splendour. I know you can do it now and will not settle for less!”

The _Or Else _thinly veiled in the words is communicated clearly enough when she bares her teeth too much as she smiles at the assembled crowd.

“So go! Be free my nightingales!” she finishes with a flourish, kissing her fingertips and waving them in the air like some kind of rock star.

Patrick sighs into David’s shoulder.

“Listen, if you want to corral some people, we have to corral them now before they wander off home. I actually have to wear this costume a few more times, so unless you want to explain to your mother any... damage-” David can feel the smirk in the side of his neck. “I can’t take it home tonight. Closing night, it’s mine but for now… Can you wait?” He kisses David’s neck softly.

“Mmm,” David hums, lips twisting to the side. “You’ll bring it home closing night?”

Patrick huffs a laugh and lifts his head. “I promise.”

“Okay, fine. But,” David says, lifting a hand to swipe across the top of Patrick’s cheekbone with a thumb. “Leave the eyeliner on?”

Patrick grins as he repeats, “Promise.”

As David rushes around trying to catch enough people on the way out under the guise of an after party to ensure everyone they want at the announcement is there, Patrick disappears off to the bathroom to get changed.

When he emerges, dressed once more in his customary blue he has, true to his word, not touched the shadows surrounding his eyes. He catches David’s attention and winks at him as he hangs up his Emcee costume on the rail, running his hand down the sleeve as David watches breathlessly.

In the meantime, Moira has received wind of the motel party and the modest gathering has swelled in size to the point that, when they all get back there, they need to open the adjoining door between the Rose family’s rooms.

David is pleased he sprung for a couple of cases of champagne from the store (at a discounted price of course. The store is not yet doing so well that they can afford to completely lose out on the profits even on such a special occasion.) He’s even cleverly distributed boxes of tissues at strategic locations- he doesn’t want his speech interrupted by too much loud sniffling, thank you.

All that remains now is just to wait until the best moment.

He finds Patrick again when all is in place, leaning against the dresser, hands in his pockets as he surveys the crowd.

“Excellent corralling, David,” he says, with an amused quirk of his lips.

Okay, so the ‘corralling’ word choice is heading the way of ‘oscillate’. He would be more inclined to rise to the bait but when he rests a proprietary arm on Patrick’s shoulder, his rings catch the light and he sighs happily instead.

“Thank you. Although credit should go to my mother.”

Together they watch Moira float across the room, soaking up adulations and emitting so much joy she seems to glow with it.

“She deserves this,” Patrick says. “Not one of us are actors yet she pulled something together out of it.”

David has never been one to be too effusive in praise of his family but there is truth in Patrick’s words.

“She’s… something.”

“As are all the Roses.” Patrick turns his head to look at David and David can see the moment his attention, too, snags on the rings.

Even in the subpar motel lighting they gleam and Patrick exhales softly, bending his head forward to brush a kiss across the closest ring, adorning David’s index finger.

“Thank you,” he breathes. “For saying yes.”

“Any time,” David says and then corrects himself. “_Every _time.”

However Patrick had chosen to ask him, wherever they might have been, there was only one answer David could have ever given.

He goes in to kiss Patrick but Alexis is calling out and apparently, it’s time for Ted to head to the airport.

So while everyone’s paying attention...

“Shall we do this?” Patrick asks, pulling his hands from his pockets as Ted hugs Alexis.

David nods and pulls Patrick with him towards the closest chair. Patrick folds his arms across his chest and stands steady as David pushes himself up using Patrick’s shoulder to balance himself.

“Hi, everyone, hi!” David starts and Patrick stands by his side, looking up at him like he’s something precious as David launches into the speech he’s been refining in his head all day.

“I just, first and foremost, want to say a big congratulations to Team Cabaret. The show was awesome and you guys were so, so good. Speaking of love…” David glances down at Patrick, getting ready to start on the most heartfelt part of his speech.

He hopes he’s scattered enough tissue boxes around the room.

“Somebody got engaged!” Roland calls from across the room and David grits his teeth.

“Wow.”

He takes a moment before trying again, determined not to let Roland take this from him. Patrick is looking around the room, clearly also taken aback by the interjection. David rests his hand on Patrick’s shoulder, appreciating the strong muscle beneath his palm.

“Speaking of love, I’m so glad that you’re all here, because Patrick and I have some very special news.”

A carefully planned pause to build suspense.

“You’re getting married!”

What the fuck is wrong with these people?

“Jocelyn! I’m the one on the chair!”

She wiggles at Roland’s side, excitement preventing her from staying still and David presses forward.

“Now, two years ago, I went to fill out some paperwork for a business license and little did I know that I would end up meeting the love of my-”

A cell phone rings.

This is fucking ridiculous.

He clenches his jaw in an attempt to dissipate the growing irritation as Moira answers the call, casually dropping a comment about their ‘engagement news’ and wanders into the other room.

As though everyone in the crowd has not already caught on to what is happening, Ronnie pipes up. “So, wait a minute. He’s marrying you?”

Her tone grates on David’s fraying nerves. Why is that so unbelievable?

“Okay, this shouldn’t be so hard!”

Why can no one just shut up and listen so he can reduce them to sobbing emotional wrecks?

“Oh my God, just spit it out David!” Alexis whines and his exasperation flares.

“Oh my God, fine! I met someone who changed my life.” Fortunately, the sight of Patrick, strong and supportive beside him, is enough to calm David and bring that happy glow back. “And I don’t know where I’d be without him. So yes, as we all now know, Patrick and I are engaged.”

Everyone is exclaiming their surprise and excitement, the announcement finally going the way David has been hoping for. From his left he can hear Patrick laughing softly before the moment is broken by Moira’s shrieks.

The crowd rushes to the other room, envisioning blood and broken bones only to find David’s oh-so-dramatic mother, unharmed (at least visibly) and sprawled on the floor. On a carpet that has not been changed since the late eighties and which boasts several suspicious stains.

Clearly something horrendous has happened to reduce Moira to this.

She looks up, tears streaming down her cheeks and tells them the Crows movie has been shelved before crawling into the closet and closing the door behind her like that’s a completely normal thing to do.

Which, David supposes, for her it kind of is.

Long accustomed to his wife’s moods, Johnny turns to the crowd, asking them as bluntly as his usually impeccable manners allow to stop gawping and leave her in peace.

David is well aware that there is nothing that will help his mother now but time to wallow in this with someone sitting outside the closet door murmuring compliments and condolences at strategic intervals. He thinks it’s his dad’s turn.

It’s not exactly the ideal atmosphere for a party.

“Yeah,” David steps in. “You can leave your champagne flutes. Unless we still wanna do a toast?”

He turns to Patrick. Maybe they can all quickly just duck into the room next door and raise their glasses? Seems a shame to waste the moment now everyone’s here. And he’s already paid for the champagne.

Patrick, ever the voice of reason, pulls a face. “No,” he breathes.

“No? Okay. Everyone leave the champagne flutes. Thank you.”

Surprisingly, everyone gets the hint remarkably well (aside from Roland, who practically has to be dragged out by Jocelyn) and within about five minutes there is only Alexis, Stevie, David and Patrick left in the room, apart from Johnny, who has taken a place sitting on a chair by the wardrobe door.

“Sweetheart this is a setback, but you’ve overcome them before!” Johnny murmurs between wails from inside the closet. “You can get through anything, you’re sublime.”

David looks to where Patrick is quietly gathering champagne flutes, the sounds of his father’s calming tones echoing in his ears.

While David has never yet crawled into a closet in tears, Patrick never hesitates to try and soothe David’s own brand of histrionics when they inevitably arise. Perhaps he is blunter and more straightforward than Johnny is with Moira when it comes to shaking David out of his slumps but the way that Patrick loves him bears similarities to the way Johnny loves Moira. Quiet, consistent and completely overwhelming.

Patrick is rock solid, honest, loyal and supportive- everything David had given up on having for himself years before.

“Ew. Ew. Ew.” Alexis is scrunching her nose and whining with every napkin she is pushing into a black plastic bag and Stevie is busying herself wiping down the table. David goes about straightening the cushions and furniture before returning the three bottles of unopened champagne from the table to the mini fridge to stay cool.

When he turns from closing the fridge door, Patrick is looking at him, glasses all lined up on the sideboard, and gives him a gentle smile.

“_Sorry,_” he mouths and David shakes his head. It’s no one’s fault the engagement announcement got messed up.

Except perhaps the fucker who decided it would be a good idea to call his mother at this time of night to tell her about the shelved movie. Stupid Bosnian time difference.

The room is acceptably tidy (this is not a room that anyone could ever reasonably describe as _clean_) and David goes to see how his father is getting on.

The moans from the closet have faded somewhat into sporadic whimpers and his father is still cooing at his wife through the door.

“They don’t know anything, my angel. They don’t see your splendour but they will one day. One day that movie will see the light of day and everyone will see your magnificence.”

He looks up at David standing in the doorway and smiles tiredly.

“Going okay?” David says quietly.

Johnny nods. “I got this one,” he says, below Moira’s hearing. His eye line moves past David’s shoulder and glancing round, David sees Patrick has appeared behind him.

“Hey, Mr Rose.” Patrick murmurs and Johnny smiles at him.

“So we were gonna head out,” David says. “Unless you need... something?”

“No, that’s okay, you go.”

“Okay. Alexis says she’s right next door if you need a break,” Patrick says underneath the groaning emerging from the depths of the wardrobe. Johnny nods and they turn to leave.

“Thanks. And boys?” Johnny says and David and Patrick pause to look back.

“Congratulations. I’m so happy for you and we’re looking forward to having you in the family, Patrick.”

The sentiment is somewhat undermined by a particularly loud whimper from the closet and David shoots a glance at Patrick, trying to see any sign that Patrick may be rethinking his attempt to marry into the Rose clan.

There’s nothing but happiness and contentment on Patrick’s face.

“Thank you,” he whispers, voice shaking so slightly that David would not pick up on it if he were not standing right beside him.

They leave then, exchanging a brief goodbye with Alexis and Stevie as Alexis removes her hair pins and Stevie gathers a bouquet of flowers Moira gave to her and her bag.

In the car David sighs and leans his head back against the head rest, screwing his eyes up. “That went well.”

Patrick mumbles an agreement. “I’m sorry it wasn’t how you wanted.”

David opens his eyes and looks over. “Experience of life in this town leads me to believe I would die of shock if anything _did _go to exactly to plan.”

“Well, we don’t want that.” Patrick’s eyes go to the motel, lights glowing dimly in the dark.

“Listen,” he starts. “If you need to stay here tonight, be near your mom, that’s okay. You still technically live here. I mean, I know we haven’t explicitly discussed you moving in with me but we’re engaged so I was hoping that would mean you’d want-”

David lunges somewhat gracelessly over the central console, pressing his lips to Patrick’s babbling mouth, heart skipping at hearing his dreams said out loud in that familiar, beloved voice. It’s incredible that Patrick would ever think he would _not _want what he’s saying.

“I absolutely do want. Completely, yes.” He pauses. “Just to be clear, we are talking about living together? Because we’ve had that misunderstanding before.”

Patrick reaches to lace his fingers with David’s, resting on the gearbox between them. “That’s exactly what we’re talking about, David. You moving in with me. Living with me.” His voice drops to a whisper. “Marrying me.”

Tears prick David’s eyes as he takes in the sight of this gorgeous man. Everything he was too afraid to want for himself, convinced that nothing this good was out there for him, is in this car.

Patrick kisses him again, slow and sweet before pulling back again. “I was serious, though. If your mom needs you…”

David shakes his head. “There isn’t anything else I can do here tonight. Dad will sit by the closet but it’s unlikely she’ll emerge before tomorrow morning. I’ll bring her tea in the morning and Alexis will take her for a manicure and everyone will flatter her ego more than usual for a few days. She’ll get through it.”

“Ah. Okay, then.” Patrick looks a little taken aback at the precision of the plan.

“It’s not the first time this has happened,” David reminds him.

“I know. But it wasn’t the best timing,” Patrick sighs. “I know this was important to you and you deserved more.”

David bites his lips; the lack of attention his announcement receives still stings. It feels selfish, but he’s wanted this his whole life and had hoped for more of a fanfare.

Patrick’s hand tightens on his. “We can have an engagement party if you want. A proper celebration.”

David purses his lips, intrigued. Definitely an idea to think on. Tomorrow.

He grins at Patrick. “As I recall, we had quite the celebration last night.”

Patrick gives a small laugh. “Yes. Well I wouldn’t want anyone else there for that kind of celebration.” He runs his eyes over David’s frame, heat flickering. “You’re sure your family won’t need you?”

“I am.”

Patrick starts the car.

The ride to Patrick’s place passes largely in silence, a tense undercurrent building with every glance of Patrick’s shadowed eyes, every brush of David’s hand on Patrick’s leg.

After a couple of minutes, David gives up the pretence that these grazes are accidental and settles his palm on Patrick’s thigh, rubbing over the denim. Patrick’s eyes stay fixed on the road but David doesn’t miss the increase in the volume of his breathing or the way his knuckles tighten on the wheel. David’s hand moves higher and Patrick squirms in his seat. He pushes himself forward on the seat, and the bulge of his groin brushes David’s fingers.

“David-” He says, voice low.

“Take us home, Patrick,” David says, squeezing his thigh. “I told you, I have plans and all of them involve us being somewhere more private to continue our celebration.”

Patrick takes the turn into his street a little faster than he usually would but the roads are quiet and neither man can bring himself to care as the car turns off and both scramble to unfasten their seatbelts.

Once inside the building, David determinedly remains on his side of the elevator. If he touches Patrick here, it’s over. If he touches him, he won’t be able to stop.

Finally, they arrive at their floor and as Patrick unlocks the door, David is practically vibrating with the effort to contain himself. Every inch separating their skin is alive with electric current and he can feel static dancing across his nerves.

Patrick enters first, David right behind, closing the door behind them, sliding the bolt across, fumbling with the chain.

As Patrick drops his keys on the table, David crowds up behind him, hands on Patrick’s hips pressing him forward into the edge of the wood. His head falls into the crook of his fiancé’s neck, mouthing at the soft skin and breathing in the scent of him. Patrick’s own hands go to rest on top of David’s, holding them against him as he turns his head to give David access.

David pushes against Patrick’s back, grinding his cock into his ass, kissing along his neck as he mutters.

“You’re so fucking sexy. And all mine.”

Patrick shudders. “Yours,” he agrees, squeezing David’s hands on his sides.

David drives his hips forward, just once, powerful enough to push Patrick’s thighs into the edge of the table and let him feel every inch of David’s cock, already worked up from Patrick’s performance and the tense atmosphere since leaving the motel, starting to harden against his backside.

Patrick’s head drops forward to his chest and David can hear his sharp intake of breath. His hands leave David’s to steady himself on the table in front of him.

One of David’s hands moves to rub over Patrick’s stomach, sliding under the thin material of his sweater and Patrick looks over his shoulder with a coy smile as David’s crotch continues to grind against him.

“Is this the plan you were talking about, David? Do you want to fuck me like this?” He leans forward slightly, pushing his ass into David’s cock and bracing his hands on the table. “We can do that. I can bend over this table for you and take your thick cock.”

The sweet, deceptively innocent tone of his voice combined with the filthy words he’s whispering punch David in the gut and take his breath away. Patrick’s eyes, rimmed with the dark eyeshadow and eyeliner, glitter in a way that is anything but innocent.

“I’ll tell you what I want to do with you tonight,” David says as he leans in close. “I want to take my time.”

He lowers his voice, brushing his lips over the shell of Patrick’s ear. “I want to take you _apart. _And yes. I want to fuck you. But I want to see your eyes when I do.”

Using his hands on Patrick’s hips he turns him around, bending down to kiss him. Patrick meets him halfway, opening his mouth and licking across David’s lips, waiting for the smallest gap before pushing into David’s mouth.

When their mouths separate Patrick presses himself closer, bringing the full lengths of their bodies together so he’s flush against the front of David, thigh to thigh, stomach to stomach. He tilts his head back so he can look David in the eye as he loops his arms around David’s waist, casual demeanour betrayed by his hitching breath and wide pupils.

David can feel Patrick stiffening through his jeans and moves his hand down to Patrick’s ass, pressing them together.

He slots a thigh between Patrick’s and starts rocking into him, pushing his cock into Patrick’s hip.

“That’s good.” Patrick’s voice is low. “Because I love it when you fuck me David. You make me feel so good when you’re inside me.”

He stretches up to catch David in a kiss and their mouths open, tongues brushing over each other as they press closer.

David shudders, his own control fraying the way he intended to make Patrick’s do the same. The pressure on his dick feels incredible and he’s rapidly getting harder but it isn’t enough. From the way Patrick is starting to pant and grind into David’s leg, he can tell he’s not the only one affected and David knows he needs to move them somewhere more convenient if this is going to go the way he hopes.

David leans down to bring their foreheads together, their own private cocoon.

“Bed. Now, Patrick.”

David turns on the spot, holding Patrick tight by the waist and starts backing him across the room to the waiting bed.

Both pairs of shoes are kicked off en route and David whips Patrick’s sweater and undershirt off, flinging it somewhere behind him. Hands run across the expanse of smooth skin, lightly sheened with sweat before going down to unbuckle Patrick’s belt.

Being manoeuvred backwards, it is all Patrick can do to keep his feet underneath him and before his shaking hands can reach for David’s clothes, the base of the mattress hits the back of his knees and he sits down heavily.

David straddles him instantly and he leans down to scrape his teeth over Patrick’s shoulder, pressing a bite there, not enough to break the skin but enough to leave a mark, particularly after David pulls the skin into his mouth, giving a hard suck.

Patrick moans when David’s thumb traces over his chest, nail grazing lightly over his nipple. David’s mouth moves up to his ear.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off you tonight. How could I? So many people in that audience wanting you. But you’re mine,” David says darkly, moving his head up and sealing his claim with a deep kiss, sweeping his tongue into Patrick’s mouth.

With his hand at the back of Patrick’s head, he guides them both down so Patrick is flat on his back, legs dangling over the edge of the mattress. David is leaning over him, devouring his mouth and moves one knee to the bed between Patrick’s thighs to balance himself.

Patrick is giving as good as he gets into the kiss and is soon gasping into David’s mouth. David feels his fiancé’s hips start to lift off the bed, pushing his cock into David’s thigh.

David moves his knee up, letting Patrick thrust up against him for a few seconds before lifting himself away, drawing a whine from Patrick.

“Just getting us more comfortable, honey,” he says, hands on Patrick’s waist encouraging him to shuffle up the bed. Once he gets the idea, Patrick is only too quick to comply, settling himself back and reaching for David, eager hands clutching to pull David’s weight on top of him.

David resists and Patrick protests when he holds himself out of reach. David crawls up Patrick’s body staring into those deep brown eyes, ringed with twin dark shadows and his stomach clenches as he straddles Patrick’s waist.

He kneels up, one knee either side of Patrick’s hips and stares down at the man beneath him, the shorter man’s chest heaving with each breath.

Quickly David pulls his sweater and undershirt over his head and flings it aside leaving himself as bare-chested as Patrick, appreciating the way Patrick’s lips part and breaths come faster at the sight. His hands go for the button on Patrick’s jeans and he unfastens them with quick fingers, drawing the zip down.

He lets his fingers graze Patrick’s dick as he pushes the waistband down and feels the hard length twitch against his hand. David inhales deeply, his own cock throbbing in his pants as blood rushes to fill it, bringing him to full hardness.

“Gonna make you come for me, Patrick. Gonna push my dick into your fantastic ass and fuck you until it’s all you can think about. You gonna let me do that, baby?” He goes to work on his own pants, the sound of the zip being dragged down obscenely loud.

Patrick’s eyes close and his nostrils flare.

“_Yes, please._ I need you inside me, David. Want your cock in me.” He’s panting and David can see his dick tenting his briefs. He lifts himself off Patrick and in seconds has both of them free of their remaining clothing, pants and underwear kicked to the floor.

He settles himself back on top of Patrick, tipping his head back for a deep kiss that reaches every nerve ending on David’s body, current pouring through him.

David slots one thigh between Patrick’s and they rock together, leaking cocks rubbing against one another, chasing the friction they need. One of Patrick’s hands cups the nape of David’s neck, fingers running across the soft hairs there and the other grips David’s ass, pulling him against him.

With one hand braced beside Patrick’s head, David licks his other palm and reaches down to wrap around them both. When David’s hand tightens and tugs on him, Patrick moans, fucking into his fist. A few strokes later and Patrick wrenches his mouth away from David, gasping for air.

“David! Please. It’s… it feels too good.”

Blindly, Patrick’s hand leaves David’s neck and shoots out to the bedside table, upending a lamp as he fumbles before he finds the handle on the drawer and yanks it open. His hand emerges after a moment with a bottle of lube and a condom, which he drops on the bed.

“I don’t want to come like this. I want to come when you’re inside me.”

David chuckles and pulls his hand away, drawing it up to cup Patrick’s chin, dragging him into another kiss.

Distantly, David registers a faint click and the loss of Patrick’s hand on his ass. Patrick lifts his hips and groans into David’s mouth in relief and David tears his mouth away to look down as he notices a rhythmic movement.

He stifles his own moan when he sees Patrick click the lid back onto the lube with his left hand while the index finger of right hand pushes underneath himself, in between his cheeks.

“Eager?” David’s voice is breathless to his own ears and he watches, hypnotised, as Patrick’s finger disappears into his body.

“Need to get ready.” Patrick bites his lip as he works his finger in and out. “Need to get myself all stretched for you so – _oh fuck _– I can have you.”

David groans and grabs the discarded lube from the bed, opening it and squirting some onto his fingers. A quick kiss to Patrick’s lips and David shuffles down the bed, scattering nips and kisses along the way until his chest is on the bed between Patrick’s legs and he has a first-rate view to where Patrick is pushing his finger into himself.

“Ready for more?” He asks and glances up to see Patrick nod. His eyes have fallen shut, eye makeup still intact, if a little damp with sweat, and his hair is mussed from David’s hands. He looks like a depraved daydream come to life.

Lining up his own index finger alongside Patrick’s, he traces Patrick’s rim before slowly working in his finger next to Patrick’s.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, yes, keep going!” Patrick pants as two fingers fill his hole and his dick twitches in David’s eye line.

His mouth waters and, unable to resist, David wraps his mouth around the head and sucks as his finger pushes into Patrick’s ass.

Patrick moans at the strong suction on his cock and raises his hips, trying to push himself into David’s mouth and back onto their combined fingers at the same time.

Patrick’s breaths are heaving and his free hand scrabbles into David’s hair. Taking more of Patrick’s cock in his mouth and licking down his length, David adds a third finger to the two already inside Patrick and begins stretching his hole wider.

Patrick groans loudly. “Oh fuck, baby, you’re so good. You feel so good stretching me open. Get me ready for your cock.”

David is aching and he grinds into the bed, desperate for friction, anything to take the edge off and stop him exploding before he’s buried in Patrick’s tight hole.

Patrick’s hand moves away from his ass, finger sliding free. He tugs at David’s hand by his entrance, trying to pull David’s fingers out.

“David, I’m ready. Please, fuck me. Wanna come when you’re inside me.”

David pulls off Patrick’s cock with an audible pop. He complies with Patrick’s tugging hand and slides his fingers out of Patrick, kissing along his strong thigh muscles. Breath trembling and cock hard enough to ache, he kneels up to crawl over Patrick’s body.

“Yeah, honey, you ready for it? I’m gonna fuck you so good.”

He seizes a pillow from next to Patrick’s head and moves to arrange it under Patrick’s hips but Patrick grabs it from his hands. David’s eyebrows raise, questioning.

“Condom. Now, David. Come on, I want it now.” Patrick’s hands shake as he slides the pillow beneath his hips, raising his ass.

David tears the condom open and rolls it on as Patrick raises his legs into a position to take David’s cock more easily. Once the condom is on, David grabs the lube once more and spreads some over his length, then reaches down to rub the excess over Patrick’s stretched entrance, pushing some inside him.

Patrick is staring up at him eyes wide and David can’t wait any more. He lines himself up as he leans over Patrick, pressing forward steadily and slowly as his cock breaches the ring of muscle and starts to sink into Patrick’s ass.

He takes deep, steadying breaths as the welcoming warmth surrounds him and has to clench his eyes shut to control himself, unable for the moment to look at Patrick’s wild, kohl-rimmed eyes for fear of coming too soon.

David slowly pushes in and in, careful not to go too fast and risk causing Patrick discomfort as he enters. Pinpricks of light dance across his closed eyelids and pleasure courses through his blood as Patrick’s heat grips him tight, drawing him in. He is startled by a sudden jolt and his cock sinking two inches further in all at once.

David’s eyes snap open to see Patrick, hands braced on the bedpost above his head. Muscles flexing, he grasps the bars and does it again- pushes his body down the bed, shoving himself further onto David’s dick. David gasps as he feels Patrick opening further for him, stretching around his cock.

Patrick’s mouth is open, face covered with a haze of lust as he tries to gain the leverage to push himself fully onto David. His hands go to David’s ass, trying to pull him down as he lifts his hips and whines when he can’t drive the last couple of inches in from his position.

“David, come on, please. I want your cock, give it to me. Fuck me, please, David.”

David groans and can’t stop his hips snapping forward when Patrick has asked for it so nicely, finally filling Patrick's ass completely.

Patrick’s head falls back on the pillow and he whimpers. His fingers dig into David’s cheeks, holding him in place, buried inside him as they both adjust to the sensation.

David moans at the hot grip surrounding his dick and he bends forward to mouth at the top of Patrick’s cheekbone. Up close the eyeshadow has started to run and, holding his weight with one hand, he reaches up with the other to run his thumb across it, smearing it across his fiancé’s cheek.

His gut clenches at the sight of the smudged makeup.

A small thrust of David’s hips has Patrick crying out wordlessly, one hand moving to scrabble for purchase on David’s back. David starts a steady rhythm, drawing almost all the way out and driving in slowly as he croons softly down at Patrick.

“I know what they were all thinking tonight, sweetheart. They all thought you looked amazing but they have no idea. No idea how good you look like this. You look so sexy when I’m filling you up with my cock. When I make you come.”

Patrick’s brow is creased, sweat pooling on his forehead. He bites his lip on a moan as David sinks all the way in again, the drag of his cock slow and delicious.

David uses his thumb to pull that lip out of Patrick’s teeth and kisses him, pushing his tongue into Patrick’s mouth, leaving Patrick breathless when he pulls away.

“Just for me. No-one else gets to see you like this.”

Patrick pants, shifting his legs to try and get David deeper. Wriggles and twists his hips but David keeps up that same slow and steady rhythm and Patrick can’t quite get the leverage to increase the pace.

Voice rough and deep, he starts urging David on.

“Faster, David. Show me how much you want me. You know I can take it. No one can take your cock as good as me.”

David grunts his agreement. “No one else,” he agrees. “Not ever.”

Patrick is hot and tight on his dick and David relents, heart pounding as he pulls out and pushes back in, hard enough to force a guttural exhale from Patrick.

Thrusting in again he hits a spot in Patrick that makes him clench around him.

“Yes. There. Fuck, David, do that again.”

David adjusts himself, steadying himself on one hand and using the other to push Patrick’s knee up, giving him deeper access to his ass as he picks up the pace, fucking into Patrick over and over. His stomach rubs over Patrick’s cock with each thrust where it lies between them and Patrick mouth drops open at the increased friction.

David bares his teeth as Patrick’s hole clenches.

“_Fuck_. So tight, sweetheart. You’re so hot and tight on my cock. Fits so perfect. Feels like your ass was made for me to fuck.” His voice is almost a snarl and his hips drive forward faster and faster, breaths ripping out of his chest. His fingers tighten on Patricks’ leg as he drives forward.

Patrick whimpers. “_Yes_. Please, David, fuck me harder. Your cock feels huge inside me, opening me up for you. I wanna come so bad, David.”

Patrick’s hand scrambles between them, leaving David’s back and wrapping around his own dick. With David hitting his prostate with every hard thrust, it only takes a few pulls before Patrick is coming between them with a shout.

David holds on while Patrick explodes, feeling the grip on his dick tighten as Patrick’s come spurts up between them, spattering both of their chests.

When he comes back to himself, Patrick smiles as he feels David still hard inside him. He shifts the leg not already held in place by David, lifting it higher around David’s waist.

“I want you to feel so good, David. Fuck me. You’re so big, your cock feels fantastic inside me,” he purrs, eyes boring into David’s.

Sweat, combined with David’s hands and mouth, have ruined the eye makeup, smeared it across his cheekbones.

David starts thrusting again, eyes fixed on Patrick's beautiful face as he chases his own release, driving his hips hard into Patrick as sparks shoot down the nerves in his spine.

Patrick groans. “It’s so sexy to see how much you want me. Come on, fuck me. I love having your cock in me. No one has ever made me as hard as you, no one can me come like you do. I love you so much.”

David whimpers, thrusting desperately as Patrick raises his hips to meet him. Nearly there…

With one last hard thrust, he holds himself still inside of Patrick, covering Patrick’s lips with his own as his release races through him and he fills the condom, dick twitching as he comes, surrounded by Patrick’s heat.

The kiss turns slow, both men delving deep into each other’s mouths. David lowers his chest to rest on Patrick’s, Patrick’s come drying between them as David's weight presses Patrick into the mattress.

They finally break away and David reaches down to hold onto the condom as he pulls out of Patrick. Patrick grimaces a little as David slips free and flops to his side beside Patrick to catch his breath.

Patrick gives an experimental wriggle. “I’m gonna feel that tomorrow,” he says with a smirk, watching David dispose of the condom.

David gives a little laugh. “Don’t want this to sound weird but the idea of you dancing like that and being reminded of me inside you is kind of hot.”

“It’s _very_ hot,” Patrick corrects. “Not too sure I’ll be able to dance quite like that again tomorrow night now.”

“Good luck explaining the difference in performance to my mother.” David smirks.

“You don’t think I should tell her the truth? ‘Sorry Mrs Rose, but your son gave it to me so good last night my ass is still a bit sore’?”

David snorts and turns on his side propping his head on his hand and rolling his eyes.

“I mean, if that’s how you _want _to start the in-law relationship...”

Patrick grins, the little troll, face suffused with the peaceful satisfaction he gets after coming.

“I think your parents would be proud to know how fantastic you are in bed.”

David hums. “Maybe you can work it into your speech at the wedding.”

“Oh, I’m allowed to give a speech?” Patrick says, raising his eyebrows.

“Obviously I will need to read it beforehand. Make sure it’s emotional enough to reduce everyone to tears.”

“It’ll be emotional,” Patrick says softly and how does he do that? How does he steal David’s breath away with so few words?

David leans over him and kisses him. His hand rests on Patrick’s chest and Patrick’s dried come feels rough against his palm. Patrick’s heartbeat is steady, thumping against David’s hand.

When he pulls away, he cranes over Patrick to peer into the still open drawer. “Do we have wipes in there?”

Patrick turns his head and reaches out, coming back with a packet of wipes. Pulling out a couple he gently cleans any remnants of come off their spent cocks while David wipes their chests.

Hissing, Patrick tentatively dabs a wipe over his used hole, the cooling dampness soothing the ache.

They drop the dirty wipes in the bin beside the bed, on top of the tied off condom and Patrick kisses David’s shoulder. When he looks up, David smiles.

“We forgot... Here.” He pulls out another wipe and one hand holds Patrick’s chin still as the other cleans away the smudged eye makeup.

Patrick’s face emerges, familiar and perfect and David can’t resist pressing a kiss to each closed eyelid.

Patrick sighs happily and settles down on the pillow, watching David throw the makeup-smeared wipe away before drawing his fiancé down beside him.

Patrick snuggles into him and David basks in the body heat emanating from the shorter man, enjoying the comfort of having the love of his life resting by his side.

As he hears Patrick’s breath start to level out and deepen, he reaches over to switch off the light, careful not to jostle Patrick. While the other man remains undisturbed at his side, he stretches down to seize the edge of the covers, drawing it over them both before closing his eyes as well and letting the sound of Patrick breathing lull him to sleep.


	2. Closing Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When closing night rolls around, it's someone else's turn to disappear...  
In which David has a rough day, Patrick is not so cool and calm, and the boys finally get the chance to take that costume home.

With one thing and another, it has been a Very Long Day.

David had spent hours the night before lying in the dark, trying not to toss and turn so Patrick wouldn’t be disturbed. Too hot, then too cold, he was unable to get comfortable and when he finally had drifted off, he was awoken by a literal catfight that kicked off in the street outside at about half past four. The yowling and screeching went on for at least twenty minutes at which point the birds were starting to chirp their feathery heads off to usher in the new day, and David had to accept that more sleep was simply not going to happen.

After dragging himself through his morning routine, Patrick had driven them to the store, David wearing his biggest pair of sunglasses to try and hide the dark rings under his eyes.

When they arrived, it was to find a mysterious water leak running down the wall behind the cash register. The emergency plumber had managed to isolate the cracked pipe but it was going to take a good chunk out of the week’s profits to repair and they would be without water in the bathroom for a couple of days until he could source the right sized pipe.

After a morning utterly devoid of customers, further reducing their potential takings for the week, Patrick had had to leave at two, offering kisses and apologies for having to duck out so early. As much as he did not want to leave, Moira had called a last-minute rehearsal in advance of the closing night of Cabaret and no one was excused. She’d taken a couple of days to rally following the shelving of the Crows movie but was now responding by throwing herself into her directorial role with renewed vigour.

(“This theatrical production shall be an intriguing trivia titbit when the story of my life is brought to life on the silver screen!” she’d announced, bursting into the store one morning to give Patrick his revised rehearsal schedule for the week.)

While David was pleased that his mother was no longer hiding in a closet, extra rehearsal time had unfortunately meant that he’d been able to spend less time than usual with Patrick over the last few days. As a newly engaged couple, this was less than ideal.

David had been missing their ‘just us’ evenings; days spent together in the store weren’t really the same thing when they had to focus on their business. Now business was picking up, it was really hard to sneak in a make out session while they had paperwork, promotions, marketing and profits to discuss in between serving customers. Despite what Patrick thinks, spreadsheets are not all that sexy.

Because Murphy’s Law is apparently a legitimate thing, there had been a sudden influx of customers as soon as Patrick had left the store to go to rehearsal. David had barely had chance to catch his breath between cashing people out, helping customers find items that were sitting in plain view and explaining body milk to a confused shopper for the seventeenth time that week.

Toward the end of the afternoon, an angry woman had returned, claiming an allergic reaction to their lavender soap and spent half an hour David did not have to spare standing in front of him, scratching her arms and screaming that it was his fault that she failed to read the clearly listed components of the product before using it.

All this added up to a splitting headache, a mind whirling with ‘should-have-saids’ and ‘could-have-dones’, and an urgent desire to crawl into bed beside Patrick, cuddle into him, close his eyes and pray this day ended really fucking soon.

Except it was closing night of Cabaret, his mother would never let him hear the end of it if he wasn’t there and, despite the stabbing pain in residence behind his eyes, he did want to be there for Patrick.

While he hadn’t gone to all the performances this week, he had caught a couple of extra showings in addition to opening night and was so proud of the fantastic performances both Stevie and Patrick were consistently giving.

He was also impressed that Patrick’s dancing had not suffered noticeably following their activities on opening night. Patrick had smirked at him when David had ironically complimented his ass’s recovery skills.

(“Oh trust me, David, I could feel the memory of every single inch of you inside me each second I was on stage. Just had to power through it to avoid explaining anything to your mother.”)

He’d had no choice but to kiss that smug smile off Patrick’s face and, because it’s impossible to kiss Patrick only once, they’d been late to dinner with Stevie. She’d immediately guessed what had kept them and it turns out her knowing looks and sly asides get really fucking irritating after half an hour of nothing but.

David finally locks the door behind the last awkward customer of this interminable day, hoping the man isn’t about to poison himself with body milk but too drained to be bothered to explain the concept again. He’s going to let natural selection decide this one.

He drags himself into the back office, flicking off the lights on the way, and slumps into the chair with an exhausted sigh.

He pulls open the desk drawer and rummages for the blister pack of paracetamol that they keep there, relieved when it’s fairly near the top of the jumble of business cards from suppliers, various tax related booklets, David’s spare chargers, and Patrick’s extensive pen collection.

Swallowing a couple of pills with a gulp of water from the bottle he’d grabbed from the fridge hours before but not yet had chance to break the seal on, he sits in the dark for a few minutes, massaging his temples with his fingers.

He sighs heavily as his head throbs.

He’s supposed to be heading to off to grab a quick shower and change of clothes at the motel (with the increased rehearsals this week, they haven’t really had the chance to start moving the majority of his stuff to Patrick’s place) and join Patrick at the theatre so they can spend some time together before the show.

Before the day from hell, David had been looking forward to closing night for more reasons than one.

Not only did he love the chance to watch his favourite people showcase their talents, he’d also enjoyed the opportunity to admire Patrick dressed as the Emcee. His fiancé’s fabulous body in that outfit, and the assured, sexually confident behaviour of the character on stage had lost none of its appeal despite having seen it several times this week.

Despite giving Patrick a thorough fucking on opening night to show him just what his performance and appearance had done to David’s self-control, the _want _that washed over David whenever Patrick sauntered onto that stage had been undiminished, knocking the breath from him every night since.

There had been mention on the first night of the play of Patrick bringing the costume home with him but nothing had been said since and if the last few nights were anything to go by, Patrick would be exhausted when he got home.

Not that David would be much fun himself if he had to dash off to engage in migraine-induced vomiting halfway through any bedroom activities. David had learned in the past (to the detriment of both himself and one of his favourite cashmeres) that nothing turns your partner off faster than being sick on. Fortunately projectile-puking-Poppy had moved back to Colorado shortly after and David had never seen her again.

Although he’d miss the chance to look at Patrick in his costume after tonight, this evening also heralded the end of late-night rehearsals cutting into their evenings together so there was that to look forward to. They might even finally get a chance to start moving David into the apartment.

David takes another gulp of water as he digs his fingers into his temples, hoping to ease the pain in his head.

Even with the overhead light turned off, and the curtain to the front closed, it feels too bright in here and he has to shut his eyes against the intruding glare driving fiery needles into his retinas. Closing his eyes doesn’t really help- even pitch black is too bright when his head is like this.

The streaks of bright light shooting across his closed eyelids and the sharp pain centralised behind his left eye have him laying his head down on the desk, scrunching his eyes against the pain and drawing deep breaths into his lungs to ward off the nausea fighting its way up from his stomach.

Head on the desk, lying in the dark, and exhausted to the depths of his soul, it’s a matter of minutes before he drifts off.

When he awakes minutes – _hours? _– later, it is in an instant and with a sick, swooping panic in his stomach. His sleep-jumbled mind can’t judge the time with any accuracy but he instinctively knows too much of it has passed. The daylight peeping under the curtain to the shop floor has faded significantly and his back is aching from being hunched over the desk.

On the plus side, the painkillers and the catnap has swept away his burgeoning migraine so he can at least open his eyes without the urge to vomit welling up in his throat.

A distant noise registers and it takes him a moment to place the buzzing. Somewhere his phone, switched to silent during work hours at Patrick’s insistence, is vibrating across a wooden surface, and he stumbles out of the chair on still-drowsy legs to follow the noise.

Yanking back the curtain, his eyes fall on his cell resting by the cash register just as the display goes dark and it stops its jerky dance across the countertop.

He seizes the phone and presses the home button to light up the screen. His eyes skip over the background image (one of their engagement photographs; he and Patrick are kissing while David’s ringed hand rests on Patrick’s cheek in full view of the camera) and zero in on the time.

6.31PM. He’s been asleep for about an hour and a half.

So on top of a fantastic day, now he’s running late.

There are fourteen voice messages; eight from Patrick, two from Stevie, two from Alexis, one from his mom and one from his dad.

There are also several more missed calls and unread texts and he opens his inbox to skim through them, stomach dropping steadily.

**Patrick: ** _Sorry I had to leave early today. Hope the rest of the day was okay. (Sent: 5.13pm)_

**Patrick: ** _Everything okay? Do you want to meet at the café before the show? If we go in the next few minutes we can get something to eat before curtain up. Love you (Sent 5.38pm)_

**Patrick: ** _Okay, you aren’t picking up. You in the shower? Wish I could be there with you... Text or call me please when you’re on your way. I missed you this afternoon. (Sent 5.46pm)_

**Stevie: ** _So Patrick says you’ve had a shitty morning. If you can get here in the next ten minutes, first round’s on me after the show..._ _🍾🍷_ _ (Sent 5.53pm)_

**Patrick: ** _Where are you? Your dad just arrived, says the lights are off at the store but you weren’t at the motel. Did you go to the apartment? (Sent 6.03pm)_

**Patrick: ** _Answer the phone please. I’m getting worried about you. I just want to know you’re safe (Sent 6.10pm)_

**Patrick: ** _Are you okay? I know today was bad, Roland said it was really busy and someone was shouting at you this afternoon when he came in? (6.16pm)_

**Patrick: ** _Please answer the phone. If you need someone, I’m right here. (6.20pm)_

**Alexis: ** _David, pick up. Your button face is going nuts. (Sent 6.22pm)_

**Alexis: ** _Hes full on grilling everyone who might have seen you today. He wont sit down. CALL HIM (Sent 6.23pm)_

**Dad: ** _David this is your father. Everyone’s getting concerned, son. Call us back please. Call Patrick first, he’s getting a little upset. (6.26pm)_

**Stevie: ** _Patrick’s losing it. Your dad somehow thinks telling him about the time you went missing before is helping. Roland’s told him you might be having a breakdown? Are you okay? WHERE ARE YOU? (Sent 6.28pm)_

**Patrick: ** _I’m going to come find you. It’s going to be okay. I love you. (Sent: 6.29pm)_

Shit.

As he reaches the end of the stream of messages, his phone lights up again in his hand. It’s Stevie.

His thumb fumbles over the screen a couple of times before he manages to swipe successfully and press the phone to his ear.

“Stevie?” He’s voice is croaky with sleep. He clears his throat to try again but her voice bursts down the line before he can.

“David! Where are you? Are you alright?” She sounds harried, and in the background he can hear Patrick’s voice, rising in volume and frantic in tone, although he can’t make out the words.

David lurches out from behind the counter and stumbles in the half-light towards the door as he answers her.

“I’m fine, I’m sorry. Look, I’m on my way. Tell everyone I’m okay. Tell Patrick-“

“Oh, he’s past listening to me. Better tell him yourself. Patrick! Patrick, don’t leave, David’s on the phone.”

As David unbolts the door the sounds of movement come over the line as the phone switches hands and Patrick’s voice pours into his ear, high-pitched with stress, as David steps into the street.

“David?! Is that you? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yes, I’m so sorry, I’m fine.” He locks the door to the store, sandwiching his phone between his shoulder and his ear as he needs both hands to lock the door (there’s a trick to it- it won’t lock unless you pull the handle towards you as you twist the key.)

Patrick exhales loudly, although David can still hear the worry in his voice. “Where are you?”

“I just left the store. I’ll be five minutes. Ten, max. I… I fell asleep in the back and my phone was on silent.”

Patrick’s breathing is shaky and David crosses the street, hurrying down the deserted sidewalk in the direction of the theatre.

“Okay. You’re alright. God, David I thought…” David hears him swallow. “I don’t know. My mind kind of ran away with me. But you’re alright? You’re sure?”

“Yes. I’m fine and I will be there very, very soon. I’m so sorry to worry you.”

The background noise gets quieter and David guesses Patrick has taken himself off to a quiet corner of the dressing room.

“It’s… as long as you’re okay, that’s what’s important. I know you had a bad day. Angry customer, Roland said? I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

“Part of owning a store, I guess. It’s fine, Patrick.”

“You’re sure? I know these things can get to you. And it sounds like she was awful.”

“It’s okay. She’d stopped scratching so much before she left and it’s over now. She hasn’t got a chance if she decides to sue.” 

Surprisingly, he does feel more sanguine about this afternoon after his nap. Thinking back, he also feels he handled it better at the time than he could have managed a year ago, which he puts down to Patrick’s steadying presence in his life.

Of course he now feels guilty for causing so much worry for Patrick, Stevie and his family so he speeds his footsteps up as much as he can without actually running.

Because, just no.

David turns the corner and hurries past a bus shelter where an unfamiliar elderly man is scowling at the posted timetable. He considers stopping to explain that the bus schedule means less than nothing in Schitt’s Creek but he has more pressing concerns. Like getting to his fretting fiancé and reassuring him of his continued survival before Patrick really does storm out on closing night of the play.

“I couldn’t give a fuck if she did sue,” Patrick is saying. “Let her try- she should read the ingredients before she starts smearing allergens on her skin.”

Patrick seems to be conveniently forgetting the time he let Alexis drape cat fur over him so he could hang around David’s new store a little longer in the vague hope David would make an appearance, a motive he hadn’t fully explored at the time but admitted to about a year after they’d started dating.

“I only care that you’re alright,” Patrick is saying. “I thought you might be upset and couldn’t stand that you were alone.”

“We can talk about it later but I’m honestly fine.” He turns the corner and the lights of the theatre come into view. “I can see the theatre. I’ll be there in a minute. But you need to go get ready.”

“Okay. We’ll talk when you get here.” Patrick says, finally sounding more relaxed. “I love you, David.”

“Love you too, honey. I’m coming in now.”

He hangs up as he shoulders through the crowd already gathering in the foyer, making his way backstage.

As soon as he pushes open the door, he’s accosted by Stevie and barely has chance to reassure her that he’s fine before Patrick is in front of him, hands on his upper arms as he stares into his face.

His face is pale and there is still a worried crease in his brow as his eyes sweep across David’s face, taking inventory. Satisfied there are no visible injuries he closes his eyes and lets out a breath.

“I’m so sorry,” David says as Patrick continues to breath deeply. “I would have answered, I didn’t hear the phone.”

“It’s okay. You’re okay.” Patrick’s hands pull David closer and he hugs him, pressing his face into David’s neck. David can feel him trembling. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

David wraps his arms around Patrick and squeezes. “I’m here.” His eyes fall on the hovering woman clutching an eye-shadow palette and eyeing the clock. “And you have just over half an hour before curtain up.”

“Shit. Right.” Patrick pulls back.

“Sorry, I’m ready,” he says to the makeup artist, who smiles in relief. Patrick grabs David’s hand, pulling him after him as he leads the way to the a few chairs in the corner of the room.

Along the way, his mom and dad intercept them and, because Patrick is not letting go of David’s hand, he is forced to stop as well. The makeup woman (is it Liz? Something in David’s head says it’s Liz. Or Lisa. Possibly Louise. He’s seen her several times this week and held multiple conversations with her so it’s too late to ask for verification) gnaws on her lip, glancing at the time.

“David! You gave us quite the scare, absconding in so careless a manner.” His mother is wearing the wig she’s named Evie for closing night, a black, shoulder-length affair with a blue sheen in the light.

“Okay, I didn’t ‘abscond.’ I was in the store. It was a long day,” David says.

“David, when I passed the store, it was all locked up, there were no lights,” Johnny says, circling his hand as he talks.

“Yes, because that’s what we do at the end of the day. You know, to deter robbers and vagrants from just wandering in at night and making themselves at home.”

David can’t believe he has to explain this to a man who ran a multi-million-dollar business. Before it all went to shit of course. But that was more to do with the crooked business manager than squatters overrunning Rose Video’s premises.

“I fell asleep in the back room. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Ah, I see,” Moira says and her eyes dart to Patrick. Johnny’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline and he clears his throat uncomfortably.

“Well. A healthy… physical… component is important for any relationship,” Johnny stammers.

_Oh. My. God._

David glances at Patrick to see him staring at David’s father, face completely blank.

“No, that’s not what I… Not that it’s _any _of your business,” David rushes to interrupt before his family can make any more progress in their sterling attempt to drive Patrick away.

“No judgement here, son. Two consenting adults having fun, that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Patrick’s face turns down to hide his expression but David can feel the silent laughter shaking his frame as his shoulder brushes David’s.

“I know!” He’s going to actually die if his dad doesn’t shut up. “But that’s not… there were two cats fighting outside and a very loud bird-”

“David, you aren’t a teenager anymore, you can should be comfortable to own your exploits,” Moira smiles in a way he thinks is supposed to be reassuring. “You and sweet Patrick are affianced! You spend most of your nights together and I don’t think it’s because you’re hosting a craft club.”

“Thank you, Mrs Rose,” Patrick has pulled himself together, which is good because David can’t speak. “It’s great to know we have your support.”

“Well, whatever happened last night, whatever activities you boys engaged in, it’s great to see you’re here safe. Poor Patrick, he was getting a little flustered,” Johnny says, and from the corner of David’s eye, Patrick shifts from foot to foot.

“Yes, your determined beau was getting ready to dash off into the night to track you down! I’m so glad you came to your senses and returned before our eminent Emcee took such a drastic and unwarranted step.” Moira tilts her head and laughs in a way that demonstrates just how very _unamused _she would have been had Patrick vanished on closing night.

“I tried to console him, David. I told him you’d reappear sooner or later, like that time you stole Roland’s van to run away and spent days on an Amish farm, remember? And no one knew where you were and Roland thought you might be dead, but you turned up eventually.”

“Yeah, thanks for that. It was… very reassuring, Mr Rose.” Patrick says, squeezing David’s hand.

“And I explained you did not have the appropriate luggage to attempt a moonlight flit. My bags are now safely locked up and I have the only key to prevent further mishaps.”

Is she going to start again with this bag? It was fucking years ago. David grits his teeth.

“Well, I’m here. So we can stop talking about this now.”

Patrick clears his throat. “I think I’m due for makeup, actually.” He makes a show of looking up at the clock on the wall.

Moira’s eyes widen. “Oh! Time is marching along, Patrick, you are quite correct.” She waves her hands, shooing them away, any concern over David quashed. “Schnell! Danke schön, meine Lieblinge!”

David sighs as they move past his parents, once more hurrying along after the unknown-named makeup artist.

“Thank you for getting us away from that,” he murmurs in Patrick’s ear as they wander away.

“Oh, you _weren’t _enjoying your parents weighing in on our sex life? That’s so weird.”

David rolls his eyes.

“Because, you know it’s completely natural, David. Two consenting adults, exploring each other’s bodies…” Patrick’s voice drops as they walk through a cluster of backup dancers.

“Okay, great, so then I have your permission to drop your first-class blowjob skills into the next conversation I have with your mother?” David mutters back.

Patrick makes a face as they reach their destination. “Might make Christmas a _bit_ awkward, but you can be the one to sit next to her.”

David grins and settles himself in a chair to Patrick’s left as Liz/Lisa/Louise sits in front of Patrick and gets to work.

Patrick’s hand is resting on David’s knee, squeezing his fingers now and then, as if to reassure himself of David’s presence. Unfortunately conversation is kind of a no-go when there’s a semi-sharp eye pencil near someone’s cornea and talking distracts the woman holding it.

David looks down at the phone still flashing with voicemail notifications and unlocks the keypad. He quickly dials into his voicemail and presses the phone to his ear.

The first few are fairly typical Patrick.

“_Hey, just calling to check in. Hope everything was okay this afternoon. The plumber called me and looks like we can get that pipe sooner than we thought so he’ll come by tomorrow. Anyway, I’ll see you soon. Love you.”_

_“It’s me. I guess you’re getting changed or something. Your mom’s letting us break for dinner, you up for grabbing something at the cafe? Let me know.”_

David can hear when the tone changes in Patrick’s voice, worry threading through the words and twisting David’s heart.

_“David? Can you call me back please? I’m just getting a little worried I’ve not heard from you.”_

_“It’s me again. Where are you? No one seems to have heard from you. Please call me.”_

Patrick breathing becomes more audible now, increasing in speed and volume along with the rise of his stress levels.

_“David, please. Please let me know you’re safe. Roland says some woman was shouting about allergies? You know that’s not your fault. Don’t worry about that. If you had a bad day, we can talk about it. Or not talk about it, whatever you want but please call me.”_

_“David. Wherever you are, please pick up. I love you. Just let me know you’re alright.”_

_“I don’t know where you are David or if you’re listening to this but I’m going to come and find you. If you’re upset somewhere I don’t want you to be alone. Okay? I’ll find you. I love you.”_

On the last message from Patrick he thinks he can hear his breath hitching and tears in his voice. There are other missed calls from him but no more messages. The voicemails from Stevie and his family are similar demands to know where he is but it is Patrick’s words and distressed tone which are left ringing in his ears.

David hangs up as the makeup artist with the L-name is finishing up with Patrick, whose eyes meet David’s as she draws back from applying the last of the eyeshadow and starts gathering up her cosmetics. Patrick’s gaze lands on the phone and he flushes as he realises what David has just finished listening to.

“Any chance you listened to the first one and then deleted the rest?” He tries, a tentative smile on his lips as he parrots one of their first conversations.

David shakes his head but plays along. “No, I listened to them all.”

The humour quickly fades from the situation and David looks down at his lap, fingers fiddling with his phone, bringing the screen to life and staring at his background photograph. With David’s hand on Patrick’s face, he’d had to get Patrick to take the picture. It took them a few goes to get it right (not that he’s complaining) but this one is perfect. After a few moments he looks up once more to find Patrick gazing at him fixedly.

The makeup artist (he’s leaning towards Lisa now) has moved on so David takes up her spot in the chair facing Patrick.

“So. Those were some intense messages.”

Patrick nods. “I know. I’m sorry. Maybe it was a little... extreme.” He sucks his lips into his mouth and shakes his head. David sees his throat bob as he swallows.

“It was just... I panicked,” Patrick says. “I didn’t know where you were and you weren’t picking up. You always pick up or call me back when I call you.”

David nods. “I’m sorry. I fell asleep, I didn’t mean to.”

“Don’t apologise, you don’t have anything to apologise for. I was doing okay and I was thinking rationally but then Roland got in my head. He said the store was really busy and some woman was screaming in your face about allergies.”

“It’s okay, she-”

“He said you looked close to tears,” Patrick says quietly and David falls silent, watching as Patrick reaches out and runs his fingers across David’s engagement rings. Patrick’s hands are shaking as he brushes his fingers along the cool metal before he threads his fingers through David’s and holds on tight.

“I thought maybe you might be all in your head, getting upset or having a panic attack alone somewhere and needing someone and I wasn’t there. I couldn’t bear it. Couldn’t stand the idea of you maybe wanting me and me not being there. It felt like letting you down. I never want to do that. I want you to know you can count on me to be there and come to me for help.”

David’s vision is blurry as he stands from his chair and pulls Patrick up so he can wrap him in a hug. He leans down to rest his forehead on the shorter man’s.

“Patrick, I do know that. And you couldn’t let me down. It’s okay, I’m okay. I promise you,” he swallows around his heart stuck in his throat. “If I feel myself starting a panic attack again, or if I’m feeling anxious, I will call you. You will be my first call. I won’t just vanish on you.”

David closes his eyes, takes a shuddering breath. “I am so sorry I put you through that.”

Patrick shakes his head. “I overreacted. You’re entitled to sleep for fuck’s sake. I should have checked places before freaking out and I shouldn’t have listened to Roland.”

“Well, not listening to Roland is sage advice for everyone.”

Patrick laughs wetly, and tightens his arms around David’s waist, hugging him close and burying his face in David’s neck. David can feel Patrick inhaling his scent and turns his head to kiss his beautiful chestnut hair.

Patrick Brewer is absolutely everything.

David loves him and trusts him with all there is inside him. From every corner of the heart that he thought was worthless because no one had ever wanted it before Patrick.

If David had ever thought there would be the smallest chance for him to get over this exquisite angel of a human being should they be parted, he now knows that won’t be possible.

He’s going to adore Patrick for the rest of his life. Every single day of every single year, forever.

Thousands of days lie ahead where he can be near Patrick, kiss him, talk to him, find out what he thinks, learn everything there is to know about this endlessly fascinating man and share himself in return.

A lifetime of loving and being loved by Patrick.

(He can’t wait.)

The last few minutes before the actors take their positions is spent sneaking kisses in the corner of the room. It’s unbelievable how Patrick can get David’s heart racing with a clever slide of his tongue and David has to remind himself that his entire family, along with Stevie and half the fucking town, is in the room in order to keep things PG and strictly above the waist.

That bow is back to taunt him and he contents himself with sliding his hand underneath it to rub Patrick’s chest as Patrick explores his mouth and whispers about how pleased he is that David is here, that he’s okay.

With a final kiss, Patrick needs to take his position for curtain up and David hurries out to take his place in the front row.

The final show, like all the performances before, is fantastic.

With the off-stage drama over and Patrick back to his level-headed self, he shines, pulling out that gorgeous self-confidence and putting his everything into every single word, every dance step.

David watches him embody the character, dragging the audience into the world of Cabaret and smiles to himself, all of the stress of the day fading away.

Taken by themselves, the relatively minor niggles are nothing, it was when they were added together that they became the shitstorm that broke the camel’s back.

But everything’s feeling better now. He’s a little more rested after his short sleep, the pipe is getting fixed sooner than they thought and the fact that this afternoon was unusually busy is a good thing for their business. The increase in takings will help with the plumbing costs and nobody left unhappy (except the itchy-rash woman and David has long-since accepted that sometimes people are just raging bitches. He’s come across enough in his time.)

On top of it all, he has Patrick. That more than makes up for a bad day.

When it is time for the cast to take a bow, David is first on his feet. Patrick beams at him when he takes centre stage and David takes the chance to run his eyes deliberately over Patrick’s body and wink.

He doesn’t think the redness spreading over Patrick’s cheeks is just from the heat of the lights.

The afterparty takes place in the dressing room of the theatre, and everyone is riding high after the resounding success.

An hour or so in, David is relaxed and happy on the couch beside Patrick, who rests a hand on his leg as David wraps his arm around his shoulders.

Alexis sits beside them, showing them the photographs Ted has sent her from the Galapagos.

“This is that turtle thing he likes. And see what he’s captioned it: ‘He’s a little shy, but we’ll soon have him out of his shell!’ That’s cute. Oh, and here’s one of the sunset. That’s a view of the beach. Here’s another of that really old tortoise, look: ‘He’s already tort-oise so much!’ Isn’t Ted so clever?”

Patrick peers over David’s shoulder, nodding and murmuring appreciation for Ted’s photography skills while his fingers trace distracting circles on David’s thigh.

Eventually, Alexis floats off to show Jocelyn the photographs, and David gives Patrick a look.

“You shouldn’t encourage her.”

Patrick laughs into his shoulder. “You didn’t enjoy the pictures of the wild animals, David?”

“Not after the first hundred.”

Patrick’s grins. “That’s a shame. Ted’s photography skills really get better towards the end.” He kisses David’s shoulder and David’s arm tightens around his shoulder.

Patrick has draped the suit jacket over the back of the sofa due to the heat in the room but is still otherwise dressed as the Emcee, most of the cast having decided it’s not worth wasting time getting changed, so David has a first-rate view of his fiancé’s beautiful bare arms. He can’t resist smoothing his hand up and down Patrick’s bicep, squeezing the strong muscle lightly.

Patrick curls into his side as they survey the room, watching their friends and family having fun and laughing. David is content and at peace, a feeling he has only really become familiar with in the last few years.

A few people are starting to leave, so it easy to hear when Moira starts monologuing loudly across the room about the possibility of staging Chicago next year and wouldn’t Patrick make a charming Billy Flynn?

David purses his lips, mulling over the possibilities of Patrick in a beautifully tailored three-piece suit (maybe with pinstripes?) and strutting around a courtroom. Starting something forbidden with the naughty foreman of the jury after hours (David isn’t sure what his own outfit would be yet. What do jurors wear?) He bites his lip.

Patrick laughs under his breath, breaking into David’s daydreams.

“It’s an interesting idea, but we’d have to see,” he says to David as he watches Moira. “There’s the store to consider and a wedding I’m hoping we're going to start planning sooner rather than later.”

David’s breath hitches for the thousandth time that week as he thinks of it. Their wedding. Their marriage.

He buries his face in Patrick’s hair so no one can see the ridiculous grin on his face, planting a kiss on the top of his head.

“We can start planning as soon as you like. Although I have to warn you, I have some fairly specific ideas already so I’m not sure how fast you think the planning process is going to be, but maybe double the time frame.”

He can feel Patrick’s body shake as he suppresses a laugh. “I’d expect nothing less. Just, not too long, if that’s okay? I really want to marry you, David Rose.”

Oh, his heart.

“I really want to marry you too, Patrick Brewer.”

The moment is interrupted by Stevie, who has been drinking steadily since the curtain fell, relieved that she has not embarrassed herself in front of the town. Clearly also drunk, Alexis has persuaded her onto a chair for a repeat performance of ‘Maybe This Time.’ Stevie gets two lines in, loses her footing and would have fallen face-first onto the floor if she hadn’t managed to catch herself on the table.

Johnny hurries to steady her as she stumbles down from the chair and, taking one look at her face, announces that he’s going to help her home.

“You, too Alexis. Moira, we need to get these two home.”

As Stevie wanders over to grab her stuff, Johnny spots David on the couch and makes his way over.

“David, are you planning to stay with Patrick tonight?”

“Yeah, why?” He could really do without his father talking about his sex life again. If he’s about to start talking about being safe...

“I don’t feel comfortable leaving Stevie at her place tonight in case she…”

The three men watch from across the room as Stevie tries, and fails, to put her coat on twice before Moira steps in to help feed her arms through the sleeves.

“Chokes in her sleep?” David offers.

“Yeah. But if your bed’s free, your mother and I could hear if either she or Alexis start throwing up. She could borrow a set of pajamas from Alexis.”

“Her costume basically is pajamas,” David points out. “Fine. But if she’s sick, I’m not cleaning it up.”

“I’ll put a bowl by the bed. I’d better get them back to the motel. Well done, tonight Patrick, you were fantastic. Have a good night, boys.”

“Good night, Mr Rose,” Patrick says as Johnny leaves, then turns to nuzzle into David’s neck. “You know, I’m really looking forward to when you’ve moved in and everyone knows you’re coming home with me.”

David hums. “Me too. This week’s job?”

Patrick nods into his neck, lips brushing over David’s skin. “It’s a plan.” He presses a kiss to the skin behind David’s ear. “So do you want to head off as well?”

David scans the room to see who is left now and nods. “Unless you have a burning desire to hang out with Roland, Jocelyn and Ronnie?”

“… Let’s go.” Patrick stands and grabs his suit jacket from the back of the couch, as well as his bag of everyday clothes from next to his feet. They say a quick goodbye and make their escape before Ray can corner them to ask if they want to invest in his latest scheme, a coffee table painting and beautification service.

The journey back is only a few minutes and David amuses himself on the ride with the possibility of the cops pulling them over while Patrick is dressed like that. Of course, Patrick is far too careful a driver for that, only allowing himself to hold David’s hand or stroke his thigh when they’re stopped at the lights, and they make it back to the apartment without any run-ins with law enforcement.

Once inside, David kicks off his shoes and heads towards the couch, planning to watch a little TV while Patrick gets changed.

He’s halfway across the room when a low voice sounds from behind him.

“You know, I saw you tonight, when you came into my club.”

David turns confused, opening his mouth ask what Patrick is talking about but the words catch in his throat.

Patrick is leaning back against the door, arms folded across his chest, eyes roving over David. The swaggering confidence of the Emcee is back, a heightened version of Patrick’s usual quiet self-assurance. The way he’s leaning against the door pushes his groin out, a clear invitation and any remaining tiredness is banished as all of David’s more carnal daydreams from the past week come rushing back.

Patrick’s stance and demeanour are both highly sexual and David’s pulse speeds up. He’s suddenly acutely aware of the space separating them.

He tilts his head as his eyes meet David’s, the question clear on his face. _Are you into this tonight?_

“Yes,” David says. It’s a struggle to get the word out through the sudden dryness in his throat and he thinks Patrick mostly lip reads it but he gets the message.

Patrick smiles, a wolfish grin that tightens David’s stomach.

“I noticed you the second you walked in. Were you there to watch the show? The dancers?” His voice is low and his eyes don’t stop skimming David’s body, making his interest explicitly obvious.

He pushes himself off the door and stalks towards David who can’t stop staring long enough to form words. “Hmm. Maybe it started that way but it didn’t take you long to change your mind, did it? To decide you wanted something else.”

He stops centimetres from David. “You couldn’t stop looking at me, could you?” He strips off his jacket and tosses it onto the table.

He stands, looking relaxed and at ease and David’s eyes drink in the sight, those shorts, the suspenders, the thin shirt and that goddamn fucking bow. He’s kicked his shoes off already but the socks and garters are still in place.

When David lifts his eyes to Patrick’s face, Patrick is watching with a raised eyebrow.

“See? Even now you can’t stop looking.”

David exhales shakily and reaches out to run a hand across Patrick’s stomach, traces the waistband of his shorts. He nods his head. “Yes. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

“I could tell. I saw you the second you walked in too. Most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. That body… All I could think about all night was getting you alone.”

Patrick steps in and brings his hands to the back of David’s neck, dragging him down into a kiss.

David sighs as he opens his mouth and his hand moves from Patrick’s stomach to curl around the side of his waist.

The kiss turns dirty, David nips Patrick’s lips and is rewarded when Patrick promptly shoves his tongue between David’s lips and brings a hand to his ass, squeezing hard as he licks into David’s mouth.

Using the hand on David’s ass, Patrick pulls them close and starts rocking their lower bodies together, eliminating any space between them. David rubs against Patrick’s hip and moans when he feels his cock starting to stir.

He loves how easily Patrick can get him going.

When they part, David leans down to start kissing along Patrick’s neck. “Fuck, you’re hot.”

“Do you know how good it felt, having your eyes on me? Knowing that you wanted me,” Patrick purrs as David’s tongue darts out to taste his skin.

Pulling back a little, forcing David to move back from his neck, Patrick grabs David’s left hand and drags it to his covered crotch. With his hand over David’s, he encourages David to curl his fingers over the half-hard bulge, squeezing David’s fingers on his cock.

“_This _was what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

He rocks into David’s palm, holding his hand in place as he kisses David again. David can feel Patrick twitching against his hand through the fabric and whimpers into Patrick’s mouth.

Patrick pulls away and bites his lip, looking down at his hand holding David’s on his cock. He takes his hand away while still pushing his dick into David’s palm and David stares at his fingers cupping Patrick’s crotch. His engagement rings stand out against the fabric of the shorts and his fingers squeeze Patrick’s cock gently, rings catching the light as his hand shifts.

He caresses Patrick’s dick through the material, fingers running over the length and he shivers when he feels it swelling beneath his hand.

“See what you do to me?” Patrick says softly, pushing his clothed dick into David’s hand. David can’t stop looking at it, the image of his hand, adorned with the rings Patrick gave him, stroking Patrick’s crotch and coaxing him to hardness.

David’s blood is pounding through his veins with the knowledge that he can do this. He can make Patrick feel this way, Patrick wants David to touch him, Patrick is getting excited for _him_.

“You’re so sexy. Hottest thing in there tonight. I hoped we’d end up spending the night together,” Patrick says and his hands clasp David’s waist as David grips him tighter, working him through the shorts. David goes for the zipper, eager to see it, desperate to see that beautiful dick.

Before he can pull the zip, Patrick seizes David’s wrist and tuts.

“Greedy. Not yet.” He pulls their hands away and steps back. His hardness is tenting his pants and he appraises David, taking in his dishevelled appearance and lingering on the clearly interested bulge in David’s pants.

He raises his shadowed eyes to David’s, eyes heated and full of intent.

“Get on the bed.”

The bed is only a few steps away but it takes a second or two before David’s brain communicates with his legs and he stumbles over.

He climbs up, glancing over his shoulder to see Patrick has not followed. He’s watching David crawl up the duvet with dark eyes, palming himself through his shorts.

“Sit against the headboard.” Patrick’s voice is low and not one to be argued with.

David’s pulse thunders in his ears as he settles himself, licking his lips when he sees Patrick’s fingers running up his length through his pants.

When David leans back, sitting against the headboard, Patrick finally releases himself and paces towards the bed with measured footsteps. He stands by the side and looks over David.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

Slowly, he climbs onto the bed and straddles David’s thighs. He leans forward to bring their covered dicks into contact, staring into David’s eyes as he rocks forward.

David’s hands grip Patrick’s back, skimming over the suspender straps as Patrick undulates his hips, rubbing their cocks together as he grips the headboard either side of David’s head, caging him in.

They’re both still fully dressed and the friction is not nearly enough to get off on but it ratchets David’s heartbeat higher and blood is pounding through his cock. Patrick rolls forward again, and David whines when he pulls back.

“So impatient. Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need.”

Patrick rolls his hips into David again, licking his lips as he studies David’s face. David can almost see that glorious mind working, rifling through the possibilities the night could bring, deciding the route to take.

What kind of fiancé would he be if he didn’t help him out?

David meets Patrick’s gaze and slowly, deliberately, opens his mouth, flattening his tongue at the bottom.

He can see the moment Patrick’s control slips in his widened eyes. “_Shit. _Yes.”

Patrick kneels up in one swift movement, raising himself up so his crotch is in David’s eye line and David can see him straining against the material. His hands leave the metal headboard and fly to his shorts where he tears open the button, yanks the zip down, almost ripping the material in his haste to free himself.

With the suspenders still holding the shorts on his body, the most Patrick can do is part his fly and shove the elastic of his underwear down. His hard cock juts through the opening of his shorts and David’s dick jumps in response to the sight.

“Do you like my cock, sweetheart?” Patrick’s voice is casual, light, if a little breathless. David whines and nods frantically, still holding his mouth open.

Patrick jerks his cock, just a couple of quick tugs, and David tilts his head, trying to get the angle right for Patrick to slide in.

Patrick grips his dick at the base, one hand going back balancing himself on the bedstead as he traces the leaking head over David’s lower lip. He’s regained some semblance of control, although his hand is still quivering ever so slightly on himself.

David moans deep in his throat, trembling with the effort not to lunge forward and swallow that gorgeous cock down, but holds still, waiting for Patrick to take what he wants, to continue this game of theirs.

Patrick smiles, a dirty quirk of his lips. “So perfect, waiting so nicely for me to feed you cock. You’re such a good boy. You deserve a reward.”

With that he pushes over David’s lower lip and presses into David’s warm, wet mouth.

David groans happily as Patrick fills his mouth, the stretching in his jaw a delicious ache. Patrick keeps going until the head of his dick bumps into the back of David’s throat.

David loves blowing Patrick, loves giving all his focus to making Patrick feel good and as the thick cock slides over his tongue, his mind is wiped blissfully blank, leaving only the need to give this stunning man as much pleasure as he’s ever had in his life before.

The relieved exhale escaping Patrick’s lips as he sinks into the tight heat of David’s mouth causes David’s lips to want to curl into a grin, he’s so pleased he can do this for Patrick, thrilled that he gets Patrick in this way.

His lips are a little busy, however, so he settles for hollowing his cheeks and suckling lightly on the warm dick stuffing his mouth.

Patrick hisses and releases his grip on his shaft to bring his fingers into David’s hair.

“Mmm... That’s my good boy. Use that clever mouth for me.”

His fingers entwine with the strands of David’s hair and he tugs lightly. It is only because David knows him so well that he feels the faint question there.

David hums around Patrick’s length, sending vibrations along the shaft and he raises his eyes to Patrick’s, trying to convey the message.

_Yes. This is good._

Patrick’s hand tightens and he thrusts his hips forward, just an inch. David gives a harder suck, pressing his tongue to the underside of Patrick’s cock and Patrick groans.

Gazing up at Patrick kneeling above him, still in that fucking fantastic outfit, David’s cock throbs and he reaches down to press against the bulge in his pants. He can feel wetness on his dick and knows he’s leaking.

He can’t resist the urge to touch Patrick however, and after shifting the fabric of his pants to ease the pressure his hand goes to the back of Patrick’s thigh, stroking the material of his shorts. He’ll make it up to his dick later.

His other hand snakes up Patrick’s chest and brushes against the soft fabric of the bow centred on his fiancé’s chest. His fingers curl around it and he grips tightly, feeling Patrick’s pounding heart against his knuckles.

Patrick’s hips rock into David’s face again and he grunts when David tips his head as much as that fist in his hair will allow to give Patrick a better angle to fuck in.

“I saw you watching me tonight. Wanting me. This was what you wanted, was it? For me to fuck this pretty mouth of yours?”

David moans in agreement as Patrick picks up the pace, his hand clutching David’s hair. Even as Patrick is being driven half out of his mind, this feels safe to David. He knows Patrick, trusts that the second David gives him the signal, taps him three times anywhere on his body, he will release his hold and pull out immediately. David’s never had to do it yet, there is an undercurrent of taking care in all of Patrick’s dealings with David and sex is no different.

Patrick’s thigh under David’s hand is trembling and he leans forward onto the hand balancing him on the metal headboard, his upper body curling over David’s head.

Patrick is gasping loudly, audible over the wet sounds of his cock pushing into David’s mouth. He’s pulling out three or four inches at a time before thrusting himself back in, seemingly unable to take himself away from the tight heat of David’s mouth for too long. David hollows his cheeks, pulling Patrick deeper into his mouth with long, powerful sucks and Patrick groans.

“That’s it. Suck my cock, sweetheart,” he pants. “It’s so good.”

David grips the bow on Patrick’s chest and hums contentedly, relaxing his jaw and giving himself over to Patrick using his mouth for his own pleasure.

David is throbbing, almost painfully hard, and he pulls his left leg up, desperate for any pressure. He plants his foot on the bed and moves his knee to the right, letting his thigh press on his cock. It’s not a lot but it takes the edge off and he starts rhythmically shifting his thigh to rub along his dick.

Patrick’s hand twists in David’s hair, tugging at his scalp, holding his head securely in place. Next to his ear, David can hear the fingernails of Patrick’s other hand scratching the metal of the bedframe as his fingers clench.

Patrick starts pulling out more before thrusting back in, grunting as he plunges deep into David’s mouth over and over. David sucks happily, noisily, trying to pull that cock back into his mouth as it drags out, welcoming it back with his tongue and pleased moans when Patrick gives it back to him.

“Fuck me, your mouth is to die for. So perfect at taking my dick. You’re so sexy. Suck me.”

Holy fuck, David loves this. He loves his normally proper fiancé babbling absolute filth as he takes David’s mouth. He loves the heavy, thickness of Patrick’s cock between his lips. He loves Patrick exploring his sexuality without inhibitions and feeling free enough with David to do so.

Patrick’s fist releases the bedstead and his hand slides to David’s cheek caressing the skin before going to David’s stretched lips, fingers brushing over the seam where his dick is vanishing into David’s mouth and hissing when he feels his shaft move between David’s lips with his fingers.

David’s hands slide from the back of Patrick’s thighs to his ass, pushing Patrick into his mouth as he adjusts the position of his head and opens his throat.

The air rushes out of Patricks lungs in a loud moan as he goes deeper than before, head of his cock sliding down David’s throat.

“Yes! So, so good. And all fucking mine.” The hand not holding David’s head moves away from his lips to thump onto the wall behind the headboard.

David fights through the gag reflex, gripping Patrick’s thigh as he takes as deep a breath as he can around Patrick’s dick, inhaling through his nose.

Patrick’s cock is huge in his mouth and throat and David’s eyes are tearing up. The rough fabric of Patrick’s shorts catches a little on David’s stubble as his hips bump into David’s jaw. David holds the breath in his lungs and swallows around that thick length, clutching Patrick’s thigh in anticipation. He wants it. He wants Patrick to come for him.

“Ah! God, wait! Wait, wait...”

And then Patrick is moving back and sliding out of his mouth. David whines as Patrick takes his delicious dick away, grasping at his thigh to try to draw him close enough to swallow it down, tongue darting out to try and coax him back into his mouth.

“What?” David’s voice is gravelly, throat raw. “No. Where are you going?”

Patrick clenches his eyes closed as he takes a deep, steadying breath. “I want to come with you. Want to come together.”

He opens his eyes and meets David’s, pupils wide. He pauses a moment, assessing and then seizes the hem of David’s sweater and drags it off him, dislodging David’s hand from the suspender bow.

Sitting back on David’s knees, Patrick’s hands quickly unfasten David’s pants and David lifts his hips to allow them, too, to be pulled from his body and kicked away. Patrick takes the chance to take off his own socks and garters before kneeling once again above a naked David, still mostly dressed in his Cabaret outfit.

His rock-hard cock, wet with David’s saliva, juts through his shorts and David can feel his own pulse in his dick as he takes in the sight. The taste of Patrick’s precome lingers on his tongue and he grabs hold of a suspender strap to drag Patrick down to sit heavily in his lap, seizing his mouth in a kiss.

Patrick takes control, sweeping his tongue into David’s mouth and tilting David’s head back as he takes his mouth. A rumbled groan travels from Patrick into David as he picks up on his own taste on David’s tongue.

He pulls away panting and shuffles off David’s lap.

“Lie down. On your back.” His eyes are wide, raking over David’s bare body, lust shining in his dark eyes.

David lies down and stretches out, arching his back to push his strong chest up for Patrick’s appreciation. Patrick has a thing for David’s chest hair and David doesn’t miss Patrick’s tongue swiping out to lick his lips.

Then Patrick is on him.

His fiancé’s still mostly dressed body covers his own and his mouth is open on David’s, kissing him deeply. Lowering his weight on top of David, they groan in unison when their cocks come into contact.

Patrick’s dick is still wet and David’s has been leaking consistently, but Patrick still grabs the lube from the bedside table and squirts some onto his palm before spreading it over both of their cocks.

He goes up on his elbow beside David’s head to give himself more room his fist closes around David.

“So beautiful,” he says, squeezing gently.

He starts pulling on David’s dick, adding a clever little twist of the wrist that has David clenching his teeth.

“I told you. Good boys get rewarded and you’ve been the best boy for me. Gonna make you come for me. You deserve a treat for sucking my cock so perfect.”

David gasps as Patrick’s fingers speed up on his dick.

“I loved it. I love your cock,” he pants.

Patrick is straddling one of David’s legs and his hips are thrusting forward as he jerks David off, grinding his own dick against the skin of David’s thigh. He buries his face into David’s neck and nips along the side of his throat, working David’s cock rapidly.

“Oh fuck, I need... I want to touch it. Can I touch your cock? Please. I want to feel you.”

When Patrick grunts into his neck, David takes it as a yes and reaches out blindly before losing focus when Patrick takes his skin in his mouth and starts sucking a bruise just above his collarbone, marking him. It stings a little as Patrick’s teeth dig in but it’s overshadowed by the overwhelming pleasure Patrick is wringing from his body.

As Patrick draws back to smirk down at his handiwork, David’s brain remembers what he was doing and his hand finds its goal. Wrapping his fingers around Patrick’s dick and squeezing, he is gratified to see that smirk fade as Patrick’s mouth falls open.

He doesn’t waste any time, tugging Patrick rapidly, stroking his thumb across the head and trying to match his pace to Patrick’s hand on his cock.

David’s free hand goes to Patrick’s chest, sliding under his suspenders and resting over the thrumming heart.

Fast, slick sounds fill the room along with their heavy breathing as they push each other higher and Patrick leans down to rest his forehead on David’s. His eyes are clenched closed and he’s panting onto David’s face as David jerks him quickly.

“God, please, David. Faster. You’re so good baby. I love you. Please, I wanna come. Please make me come.”

So polite. The Emcee act has well and truly vanished as Patrick climbs towards his climax. This is Patrick, just Patrick.

Patrick gives David another firm tug and David can feel the muscles in his stomach tensing as his body gets ready.

“I’m close, Patrick. You nearly there, sweetheart?”

Patrick nods wordlessly. Two strokes later he’s coming with a groan and David lets himself follow, fire rocketing through his body and vision going hazy as he tips over the edge.

Come spatters both of their hands, the front of Patrick’s shorts, and falls onto David’s stomach as he lies beneath Patrick.

Patrick’s arm gives way and he falls onto David, gasping into the bare skin of his chest. David raises his arms and wraps them around Patrick, stroking down his back as they catch their breath.

Patrick is murmuring words that David can’t quite hear, but his meaning is clear when Patrick nuzzles his skin, kissing his chest softly.

“I love you too, Patrick.”

Patrick raises his head, face flushed and happy and stretches to kiss David softly.

“Was that okay?” He says when he pulls back. “I wasn’t too...”

“It was fucking hot, Patrick. It was perfect.”

Patrick grins. “For me too. I don’t think I can move.”

“We probably should though,” David said. “We’re both kind of messy and...” David stretches the elastic of the suspender on Patrick’s back up an inch and lets it snap back down. “You’re still dressed.”

Patrick snorts. “Oh God.” Tentatively he pulls himself up. His shirt is clinging to David’s stomach, wet with their combined come, and there’s no mistaking the streaks and splashes on his shorts.

“I’m so pleased we waited until the show was over,” Patrick says. “This is not washing out.”

“Worth it,” David says, watching as Patrick climbs off the bed and pulls his shirt away from his skin, damp with sweat and their release.

Patrick’s hair is mussed, his skin is glistening with sweat and satisfaction. His cock, glossy with come, saliva and lube, is still poking through his stained shorts and David pouts when Patrick turns to the bedside table restricting David’s stunning frontal view of his thoroughly debauched fiancé.

David sprawls on the bed, naked and sated with his torso smeared with come, content to watch as Patrick rifles through the drawer and emerges with the pack of wipes. He turns and sits down on the edge of the bed near David’s hip.

Twisting his waist, he cleans David’s stomach and cock and David hums at the sensation of Patrick gently handling his sensitive sex. He’s still too blissed out to move much but he manages to lift a heavy hand onto Patrick’s lap to give his soft cock a loving stroke.

Patrick huffs a laugh. “Let’s give it some time to recover, shall we? Not sure there’s any more come left in me at the moment.”

“Just saying well done. He’s done a very good job.”

“We’re talking about my dick in the third person now?”

David grins as Patrick finishes cleaning him off but continues fondling Patrick for a few long moments before removing his hand.

The damp trail left by the wipe is drying on David’s stomach, chilling his skin and he shivers in the cool air.

Patrick, noticing David’s shudder, stands and grabs the blanket from the end of the bed, dragging it over David’s body. Quickly, he unfastens the suspenders and gingerly pulls the shirt over his head trying to avoid getting anything unfortunate in his hair. Stepping out of the shorts, he carefully gathers the clothes up and deposits them in the basket.

David turns on his side beneath the blanket and props a head on his hand, watching Patrick clean himself up before depositing the wipes in the bin.

When he looks over to see David watching him intently, he quirks an eyebrow.

“Doing okay over there?”

“Mmm. I’m perfect,” David says and Patrick smiles softly.

“Yes, you are.”

“No. I meant… I feel good.” He looks pointedly at Patrick’s cock. “Very good.”

Patrick laughs. “Glad we could help.”

He turns to pick up his pajama trousers from the chair beside the bed and David juts his lower lip out when he goes to put them on.

“Mmm... Do you have to, though?”

Patrick hesitates and then shrugs and throws the pants back. “Not really.”

David grins in triumph as Patrick pulls the blanket aside and gets in bed beside him.

He settles down on his back and David grins down at him, head still propped on his hand. “It’s a very hot night. I don’t want you overheating.”

“Yes. I’m sure that’s your prime motivation.”

David nods seriously. “Of course. It’s your comfort I’m thinking of, honey.”

He leans down and kisses Patrick gently before pulling away and whispering against Patrick’s lips. “The fact that your body is fucking glorious and it saves me time later if I don’t have to take your pants off is purely a coincidence.”

“Very altruistic, David.”

David lies down beside Patrick as Patrick reaches to turn off the light. Patrick turns onto his side, throwing an arm across David’s stomach.

David can feel sleep closing in as he relaxes into the pillow, blissfully exhausted and he already knows he’s going to sleep much better than the night before. As long as those cats don’t reappear for an encore.

“Good night, Patrick.”

“Night, David.”

He’s asleep in minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day these sex scenes will be less than 3000 words, I promise. I don't like to interrupt them when they're having fun.
> 
> Can't think of any more canon moments of them wearing unusual outfits (some of David's wardrobe choices notwithstanding) but there are a couple more ideas rolling around in my head to continue this series.
> 
> If you've stuck with me this far, thanks and I hope you enjoyed!


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